


Can't Catch Me Coz the Rabbit Done Died

by deanstheman



Series: Tasha Series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Time Travel, angsty!Dean, brotherly bond, protective!Sam, stoned!hippie!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 93,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanstheman/pseuds/deanstheman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Two Guys, a Girl, and a Ticket to Hell (though you don't really have to read that one first). </p><p>AU of season 5.  When Sam chose to trust Ruby over his brother and ended up freeing Lucifer from his cage, his betrayal broke Dean in a way Hell never could. Now, under the shadow of the impending Apocalypse, the brothers must work to rebuild their bond as they fight together to protect their tattered family from both angels and demons. Cut off from Heaven after rebelling against his superiors, Cas’s undying loyalty to Dean leads him to take on a new role in the war for humanity, a role unlike any he could ever have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rabbit Done Died

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in early season five. The first few episodes of S5 happen as cannon (as per the TV show) then I jump in and go completely AU. There's an OC in this that is from a previous fic of mine but you don't have to have read that one first since the only part of that fic that comes into play here is Dean's relationship with her. All you really have to know is that Tasha and Dean had a brief (but very real) thing a year ago but Cas showed up and revealed that it was written that she would have a role to play if Lucifer was ever freed from his cage and that she needed to go into hiding from demons so the Winchesters haven't seen her for all of season four (which would have happened as per cannon).

~0~0~0~0~0~

_Adair, Iowa_

"I can't believe we just iced Paris Hilton," Dean chuckled, throwing his duffel on the shoddy table as the brothers stepped into the motel room.

"Wasn't really her, dude," Sam pointed out. He kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the closest bed.  
It was late and he was tired. The long ride in the car from Canton, Ohio had been quiet, a product of the lingering tension between the brothers after Sam had made the colossal mistake of unleashing Lucifer on the world. His brother had agreed to work together again once he found out both he and Sam were vessels for Michael and Lucifer respectively, but until this morning when he'd agreed to at least try and treat Sam as an equal, the elder Winchester had still been waving the blame card any chance he got.

"You still gotta admit, it was kinda fun," Dean smirked, not bothering to remove his boots as he followed suit and flopped down on his bed. They were on their way to Marshall, Minnesota to investigate the death of a man who had his chest clawed open but weariness had set in and they had decided to crash for the night and drive the rest of the way in the morning.

"Well yeah, the part where Paris Hilton was kicking your ass was definitely funny," Sam rebutted, glad for a reprieve from Dean's sour attitude towards him and hopeful that this might be a turning point for them, another small step back to what they had been before Ruby. He folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"At least my hero isn't a four foot tall fruitarian in a diaper," Dean fired back.

"No your hero was…"

"Cas!"

Sam turned his head towards his brother, his forehead creased in confusion. "Your hero is Cas?"

Dean was already sitting up, a look of alarm on his face as he stared at the space behind Sam. As Sam turned his head, expecting to see the angel behind him, he heard a female voice. It was just a breathy gasp but definitely female.

"Tash!" Dean exclaimed, standing up already.

Sam sat up like a lightening bolt, his eyes falling on the two new figures in the room. Cas was standing in his beige trench coat with the usual intense expression on his face. Next to him stood a slim brunette whose hands were held out from her sides, fingers splayed as if she was trying to regain her balance. Her face spread into a huge grin when her eyes fell on Dean.

"That was awesome!" she laughed, her eyes moving from Dean to Sam on the bed then back to Dean. "Beam me the fuck up, Scotty!"

Dean reached her before Sam was even on his feet. "What's going on?" the elder Winchester demanded urgently, his hand gripping her shoulder in way of worried greeting as he turned immediately to Cas. "Did something happen? Why'd you bring her here?" He bent to give Tasha a quick kiss, his face intense with obvious concern.

Cas simply narrowed his eyes at Dean. "I had to," he said sternly.

"But I thought she was safer staying apart from us?" Sam questioned, coming around the end of his bed to stand with the other three. "I thought you carved her ribs like you did to ours so neither the angels nor the demons could find her."

"I did," Cas answered, still wearing a frown.

Tasha rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't tell me anything," she griped, turning to the brothers. "He just showed up and insisted I had to leave right away then wham! - we're here."

Cas ignored her, addressing Dean directly. "I told you not to have any contact with Natasha," he said, sounding exasperated.

The younger Winchester couldn't help but notice the sheepish looks exchanged between Dean and the brunette but neither said anything.

Sam groaned with realization. He and Dean had split up and gone their separate ways for over three weeks; it made sense that his brother had gone to see Tasha during that time. Dean had always hated being alone and had been so deeply hurt and betrayed by Sam choosing to trust Ruby over him. It wasn't surprising he had needed comfort badly enough that he would seek out the one person who would always choose him.

"So did the demons follow Dean to Tash in Wyoming?" he asked the angel, giving the silent pair his own disapproving glance.

"No," Cas replied simply. "But I heard whispers that her role in all this has finally come to pass and I see now this is the truth." He turned to Tasha, whose sheepish grin had faded to a look of apprehension. "You were lucky I got to you before Zachariah was able to find you," he told her.

"What does that douchebag want with her?" Dean demanded, his shoulders stiffening. "And while you're at it, what is her supposed role, Cas? You've never told us anything. You really need to start talking, man."

"I didn't know what her role was until tonight," Cas defended. "But now she will be sought after by both Zachariah's angels and Lucifer and his demon army. Your hex bags will not be sufficient to hide her."

"What about the carvings on my ribs?" Tasha interjected. "You said they would keep me hidden."

"Yeah," Sam added, his brow furrowed. "You said you zapped her with them right before you zapped us."

Cas let out a deep breath but Sam wasn't sure whether it was a sigh of frustration or of weariness.

"I did mark Natasha; they can't find her," Cas said slowly, giving her a long look before his eyes came to rest on her stomach. "But they can find her child."

Tasha gasped and Dean visibly jumped, both of them widening their eyes and staring wildly at Cas. Tasha shook her head as her hand moved immediately to her belly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean stammered, raising a finger out in front of him towards the angel. "You're not saying what I think you're saying … are you?"

"I'm saying she is with child," Cas said simply. "And I assume the child is yours."

"But … but she can't be," Dean insisted. "We didn't …you know ... we didn't …" He looked at Tash. "Oh shit," he breathed. "On the stairs…"

Tasha shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said, turning to Cas. "I can't be pregnant," she informed him. "I can't have kids. I got hurt pretty bad by a Dharga when I was nineteen and the doctors all agreed that my uterus was way beyond repair. So no way I'm pregnant."

Cas didn't get the chance to answer before Dean figured it out. "Cas healed you last year after Diego," he explained with a groan. "He healed _everything_."

He blew out a deep breath and wiped his hand down across his face. "I need a drink," he said, heading towards his duffel.

"So do I but I'm guessing that's not an option for me anymore," Tasha breathed, her hand still on her belly and her eyes still wide.

Sam had remained silent so far. He was surprised, shocked even, but something inside him had ignited the instant Cas had said the words 'the child is yours.' Dean was going to be a dad! He was going to be an uncle. Bobby was pretty much going to be a granfather. Ruby, Lucifer, Lilith, Zachariah … fuck all of them. They didn't matter anymore. This was … this was … this was just plain awesome!

He couldn't wipe the goofy grin off his face despite the fact that neither Dean nor Tasha seemed overly thrilled with the shocking news. He was so sure this was what Dean had always wanted; his brother just hadn't figured that out yet. And if he could have chosen any girl to be welcomed permanently into the Winchester fold, Sam would have chosen Tasha.

Tasha narrowed her eyes at Cas. "How can you tell after only a week?" she demanded. "And what does this mean? Is that my role? Am I just a freakin' womb to the kid of the 'big vessel' over there?" She jerked her thumb at Dean over at the table. "And what do Zack and Lucifer and demons want with the thing?"

Tasha's fearless and almost bossy attitude towards the angel didn't surprise Sam but he had to chuckle at her calling her own baby a 'thing'.  She definitely wasn't traditional mother-material.  He turned to face Cas expectantly, wanting the answers to her questions as badly as the parents-to-be. Meanwhile Dean had found his whiskey flask and was in the process of taking a long, long, _long_   drink.

Cas looked at them all in turn before finally offering the explanation. He answered her questions in order. "I can tell because I am an angel and when I touched you and searched for it, I sensed a flicker of essence other than yours," he said matter-of-factly. "And yes, this is your role. This is an important fate to fall upon you." He looked over at Dean, who was leaning on the table rubbing a hand through his short spikes. "You and Dean and your child," he clarified before giving them both an accusing look. "It's existence is a risk that might have been avoided had you done as I asked and stayed away from each other."

"Or out of each other," Sam mumbled with a smirk, earning himself a sharp glare from both of his fellow humans.

"Just spit it out Cas," Dean blurted as he finally moved back towards Tasha's side. "What makes the kid so important?"

Cas fixed his blue eyes on Dean. "Your child will help to decide the outcome of the battle between Michael and Lucifer," he said solemnly.

"What?" Tasha gasped.

"But there isn't going to be a battle," Sam pointed out. "Because neither of us are going to say yes."

"Yeah, I thought we were gonna ice the Devil instead," Dean reminded the angel. "You agreed that was the plan."

"I said I would help you find the Colt but killing Lucifer was your plan," Cas corrected. "I am still hopeful I can find God and put an end to all of this."

"Yeah, how's that going for you?" Dean snapped, knowing he was being short with his friend because he was overwhelmed by the latest weight that had been thrust on his shoulders and not for any real anger with Cas.

Cas didn't seem fazed by the hunter's abruptness. "I have found nothing so far but I believe I will soon."  
Dean didn't care about Cas's pointless search for God. If God was still around then, simply put, God was being a jack-ass. What kind of father let his kids run wild - killing and smiting and being complete douches – and didn't step in to issue a few spankings? Fucking Lucifer and that prick Zachariah should be the first to be bent over Daddy's knee.

Of course, Dean wasn't blame-free in all of this. Thanks to a moment of weakness on his part, Tasha was now in serious, epic-scale danger. Hunted by every demon and every angel on the planet, including Lucifer himself. Dean was so used to him and Sam being knee-deep in apocalyptic shit it didn't even faze him anymore but now he'd gone and dragged Tasha into it again. Tasha and … _their_ _child_.  Fuck, this soooo was not the time for this!

"What about Tash?" he asked Cas worriedly. "I might be able to gank a few demons if they sniff her out but I can't keep her safe from angels if they find us. Can't you block the baby from angel-radar like you did for us?"

Cas shook his head. "The baby doesn't have enough form yet," he explained. "It will not be distinct enough for me to mark for a number of weeks; months even."

"But the angels can still sense it?" Tasha asked quietly.

"Yes. Right now only if they touch you but soon they will be able to detect it from a distance."

"How about Bobby's panic room?" Dean suggested. Cas shook his head again.

"Exactly what do they want with the baby?" Sam asked, realizing Cas hadn't given them a decent answer yet.

"I just became aware of this information myself," said Cas. "It was written that a child shall be born to one of the true vessels and the last of a valiant bloodline. It seems very likely Natasha is the person fate describes as she was indeed the last of such a bloodline, the rest having been vanquished by the vampire Dago. We already know both you and Dean are the true vessels. If born before Michael and Lucifer face each other, the child will have great influence in the outcome of the battle between them. It is believed that it will aid whichever side for which its parent is a vessel."

The three hunters stood silent for a long moment, absorbing Cas's words.

"So you're saying the kid will help Michael win?" Dean summarized finally.

Cas nodded. "Since the child is yours and you are Michael's vessel."

"Does it mean he wins without taking out half the planet?" Dean ventured hopefully.

"No," the angel answered. "I have heard nothing about the battle being less destructive, only infuenced in outcome."

"But _how_   does it influence the outcome?" Sam pressed. "And if we never say yes, then there is no fight and the baby's not important and they should all leave it alone, right?"

"I don't know how," Cas admitted. "Also, I don't believe the angels and Lucifer know that the child is Dean's. It is written that the last human of the valiant bloodline would have a strong bond with either of the true vessels, so they likely don't know which of you is the father of the child. Both will still be hoping their respective vessel is the father."

Another silence fell across the room, this one slightly awkward.

"Okay, I'm not gonna touch that one," Dean said finally, breaking the slight tension with a grin. They had all moved past the fact that Tasha and Sam had spent a night together while Dean had been in Hell and he saw no reason to delve back into that whole scene. As usual, his solution was levity.

"Well the baby's definitely Dean's," Tasha huffed, throwing Cas an indignant look.

"I was not doubting that," Cas said hesitantly, giving the girl a puzzled look and clearly not sure what he had said to offend her. "I was just pointing out that until Michael and Lucifer know for certain which of them is the father, both sides will merely be looking to capture the child and not kill it."

"So they don't want me dead," Tasha extrapolated.

"Not until you give birth," Cas confirmed. "Then you will only get in the way and they will likely kill you immediately afterwards."

"Nice, Cas," Dean rolled his eyes. "Ever hear of tact?"

The angel returned the frown. "I do not have time for tact, Dean," he said gravely. "If you want your child to live, I need to take Natasha somewhere neither the angels or demons can find her."

"Oh come on!" Tasha griped with an exasperated sigh. "I just spent a whole year hiding out in Borings-ville away from Dean. Can't I stay with him now?"

"No."

She narrowed her eyes at Cas. "Where am I supposed to go then?"

"Not really _where_ ," Cas clarified. "More like _when_."

"Come again?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I cannot hide her anywhere here and I alone can't protect her from archangels and the highest ranking demons that will stop at nothing to capture her," Cas explained with a hint of impatience.

Both Dean and Sam decided to ignore the fact that he had completely discounted them in Tasha's protection detail. After all, they were both human and admittedly somewhat ineffective against angels and high-ranking demons in open confrontation, especially since Sam had stopped tweaking on demon blood.

"For a long time before recent years, it was forbidden for angels to walk the Earth among the humans. Since I cannot shield the child, I can only think to hide both it and Natasha in a time no one will be looking for them."

"In the past?" Sam couldn't help but be impressed with Cas's ingenuity. That was a good idea. It might actually work.

"What year?" Tasha asked, eyes wide. "And when do we have to go?"

"At least three decades ago and we must leave right now." Intense blue eyes held her gaze with an expression that left no room for argument.

"Now?" She threw a panicked look at Dean before turning back to Cas. "For how long?"

Cas shrugged. "Until they find you," he said simply. "At least until the child is born."

"You're an angel," Tasha pointed out. "Can't you speed things up and just ... poof it out?"

Cas gave her an incredulous look and was about to answer the obvious 'no' when the elder Winchester cut him off.

"You're going with her though, right?" Dean said sharply. "You're gonna stay with her and look out for her?"

"Hey, I'm just pregnant, not an invalid!" Tasha interjected, clearly taking offense to Dean's insistence on a chaperone. "It's not like I haven't taken out a demon before!"

"Yes," Cas answered, ignoring Tasha's outburst. "I told you I was getting nowhere in my search for God. I believe I'll have more luck looking for him before the apocalypse was set in motion. There will be no angels around so I will be able to move more freely without having them all trying to kill me."

Dean nodded his acceptance of the plan and looked at Tasha, putting his arms around her and leaning down to give her a quick hug and a lingering kiss on the mouth. He could see she was freaking out inside but he felt her body calm slightly as she returned the kiss. When he pulled his lips away he kept his hands on her waist, their foreheads touching.

"Okay, this is really fucked up but if it's the only way to keep you safe you gotta do it," he said quietly.

She let out a long, slow breath before nodding. "I know," she agreed. "It just seems we never get more than a few minutes together before Blue-Eyes here is sending me away somewhere." She tilted her head towards Cas.

Dean grinned. "Look, you're gonna be spending a lot of time with him so you may want to try being nice," he told her. "Besides, Cas isn't that bad once you get used to the stick up his ass." He turned and threw a teasing smirk at the man in the trench coat.

Tasha laughed. "I know owe him one," she admitted. "I haven't forgotten he saved my life last year. It's just that he has this annoying habit of dragging me away from you."

"Just do what he says and come back in one piece," Dean said softly. "You and ..." He dropped the sentence and let his hand slide around to rest on her flat stomach. "I can't believe this is happening," he murmured, unable to prevent his traitorous lips from curling up at the edges into a smile.

"You and me both," Tasha whispered back to him, pressing her hand over his.

Cas cleared his throat and Dean let his hands drop with a sigh, pressing his lips to Tasha's one last time before stepping back.

"Be careful," Cas said to Dean. "I will return with Natasha as soon as it is safe to do so but it may be a while. I cannot stay here to protect you so please don't do anything reckless without ... " He paused when he saw Dean's eyebrow arching upwards.

"Without you here to save my ass?" Dean finished the angel's sentence with an indignant snort. "Thanks for the concern Cas, but I got this. You're needed elsewhere and that's fine by me." He tilted his head towards at Tasha, who was giving the taller Winchester a hug good-bye. "You do your job and keep her... _them_...safe and I'll hold down the fort here in the twenty-first century, 'kay?"

Cas nodded and reached out to touch Tasha's shoulder.

"Okay I just have one more question," Sam said, a huge smile spreading over his face as the three others looked at him expectantly. "On the stairs?" he grinned teasingly back and forth between the two parents-to-be. "Seriously guys? How does that even work?"

"Shut up," Dean and Tasha said in unison before the girl and Cas were gone, leaving Dean to finish the 'up' by himself.

~0~0~0~0~0~


	2. It's Rabbit Season

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_One week later…_ **

Dean coasted the Impala into her usual parking spot in front of the Singer garage behind Bobby's house. The brothers got out and knocked on the back door, sparing each other worried glances when they got no answer.

"Bobby!" Dean yelled, stepping into the mechanic's kitchen. "Bobby!"

"Maybe he went out," Sam shrugged after they'd checked the mail level.

"Dude's in a wheelchair," Dean reminded him, growing anxious.

"Doesn't mean he can't go to town, Dean," Sam pointed out. "He was looking into getting one of those vans rigged up for handicapped drivers, remember?"

They headed back through the foyer to the living room but were stopped by a hushed voice from the stairs.

"Dean! Sam!" it called in a shouted whisper.

Both heads spun around to see Tasha running down the stairs.

"Tash! What…" Dean stammered, cutting himself off as she practically leapt off the bottom step and wrapped her arms around him.

"What are you doing back already?" Sam cut in.

She pulled herself back from the elder Winchester and gave the younger a quick hug also. "Wow, you guys haven't changed a bit," she grinned between them.

"Tash, what's going on?" Dean pressed. He couldn't help but notice she looked different. Her figure was still as perfect as it had been two weeks ago when he had disobeyed Cas and stopped by to see her so she wasn't showing yet but somehow she looked different. Must be the pregnancy glow-thing, he figured. That and she had her hair straight when usually she put some curl in it.

"Why are you back so soon?" Sam repeated.

Her forehead creased. "So soon?" she said, her voice still somewhat hushed. "What's the date? How long have I been gone?"

"'Bout a week," Dean supplied. "Did they find you already? Where's Cas?"

The brunette's smile had faded and she now wore a vaguely stunned look. "Uh, he's upstairs," she said absently. "He just zapped us back here fifteen minutes ago and it kinda wipes him out. He passed out." She gave Dean an apprehensive look. "So I've just been gone a week, huh?" she said slowly. "Uh, so you guys don't know about … anything?"

Dean frowned at her. "Anything like what?"

"Mommy?" came a small voice from the top of the stairs.

Both Winchesters' heads snapped upwards to see a little boy with dark hair of about four years old at the top of the stairs, a small yellow Tonka truck clutched tightly in his arms.

"Anything like that," Tasha replied with an apologetic huff of laughter. She turned and reached her hands up towards the little boy. "Come on down sweetie," she coaxed. "It's okay."

Sam was barely aware he was gaping as he stood there and watched what he was sure was Dean's son … _holy crap, Dean's **son!**_ … walk down the stairs. He glanced over at his brother to see a look of unbridled fear and shock on Dean's face and a huge grin spread across his own.

The boy stared at them shyly as he stepped off the bottom stair and took Tasha's outstretched hand, coming to stand pressed against her leg, half hiding behind it. Tasha smiled sheepishly at the brothers. "Dean, Sam," she said in way of introduction, "This is Sammy."

"Sammy?" Sam repeated with a hitch in his voice. _She had named Dean's son after him?_ His heart skipped a full beat in shocked gratitude before resuming its excited thumping in his chest.

Dean just stared down at the kid, unable to move or speak.

"Uh, yeah," Tasha blushed slightly. "I thought it would be what Dean would have done so… it's Samuel Brian Singer."

"Singer?" Sam asked again. He knew Brian was Tasha's father's name but she barely knew Bobby.

She nodded again. "Cas said it wouldn't be safe to use my parents' names, Malick or Montoya, and definitely not Winchester so I figured Dean was as much Singer as Winchester anyway." She looked back at Dean, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You okay there, Dean?"

"What? Uh, yeah," the new father stammered, finally breaking his wide-eyed stare at the little boy with the floppy brown bangs. "He even uh, kinda looks like Sam did when he was a boy," Dean managed. He still didn't move any closer.

Tasha giggled. "Sammy," she said to the boy, "Remember what I explained about your Daddy living far away? Remember when we got here I said you'd meet him soon?"

The kid nodded, staring up at both men with giant, soft, brown eyes. Tasha's eyes.

"Well this is your daddy," she gestured to Dean.

Sammy just smiled shyly and stepped further behind Tasha's leg. Dean gave him a nervous wave. "Hi little guy," he said awkwardly. This was so weird. Usually he had no problem talking to kids, especially boys, but he was flustered and overwhelmed and didn't have a clue what to do or say as he stared at this tiny person that he had created.

"And this is your Uncle Sam," Tasha continued, ushering the boy out from behind her gently.

"I got my name from you," Sammy said timidly after giving the tallest Winchester a long, hard stare.

"Yeah, you did," Sam grinned down at him. "Pretty cool, huh?"

The kid grinned. "Yeah, groovy."

Sam laughed, looking back at Tasha with a raised eyebrow. " _Groovy_? What year did Cas take you back to?"

"Sixty-seven to seventy-two," Tasha told him with a roll of her eyes.

Suddenly another little voice floated down the stairs. "Mommy? Sammy?"

The brothers startled again and stared slack-jawed once more as a second child came running down the steps. This one was a girl with a mass of blonde curls and green eyes.

Tasha cringed. "Okay, I was sooo gonna get to that," she apologized. "I was trying to break it to you gently."

"There's two?" Dean rasped as the little girl reached her mother's side at the bottom of the steps.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded, staring fearlessly up at the two men, hands on her hips.

"Cassie, mind your manners," Tasha chided. "This is Cassie Erin Singer."

"Twins?" was all Dean managed.

"Hi Cassie," Sam grinned down at her. He literally felt like his heart was going to burst. Dean had _two_   kids. This day just kept getting better.

"That's our daddy," Sammy told his sister, pointing to Dean.

Cassie narrowed her eyes at her father. "Uh-unh," she shook her head. "My daddy's a superhero. He's gonna save the world."

Tasha laughed and gave Dean a sheepish look. "I may have played you up a little."

"What makes you think I'm not a superhero?" Dean asked his daughter, the shock finally starting to subside. He thought it was a bit ironic that Tasha had named his kid after his ex-girlfriend but he had to stay calm and not freak out here at suddenly being the father of twins. He'd known already he was going to be a father; he just hadn't expected it to happen so damn quickly and he sure as Hell hadn't been expecting a double whammy.

"You don't look like a superhero," Cassie answered him deprecatingly. She was clearly not shy, unlike Little Sammy.

"Maybe he's wearing a disguise," came a deep, shaky voice from behind them. They all turned to see Cas standing on the top step, wearing his usual trench coat and leaning heavily on the banister. "Like Batman from the television show."

"Cas!" both kids squealed, running up the stairs to the angel who looked decidedly unsteady on his feet, a weak smile tugging at his lips.

"Whoa, wait up!" Tasha called to them, darting up the stairs to catch them before they knocked the teetering man over. The children were too fast and reached him first, wrapping their arms around a leg each.

"You waked up!" Cassie cried, outstretching her little arms and clenching her fists open and closed, begging to be picked up.

"Woke up," Tasha corrected absently, nudging the little girl away and sliding herself next to Cas. She slung his arm around her shoulder to support him and helped him walk shakily down the stairs with the two kids in tow.

Dean realized suddenly where his daughter's name had really come from and was struck with a momentary flicker of jealousy as he watched the four descend the stairs. They had been together for years and were obviously close and comfortable together. This was his family but somehow he felt like the outsider here.

He finally gathered his wits and stepped forward to help Cas when he and Tasha reached the bottom step. He shuffled the weakened angel onto his own shoulder and walked him into the living room, lowering him onto Bobby's couch. Sammy and Cassie immediately climbed up next to him, one on each side. Cas looked around the room, the familiar grave expression adorning his face.

"Where's Bobby?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. "Probably out restocking the liquor cabinet," he offered, his former worry for the wheelchair bound mechanic swallowed by the latest revelation. "You okay, Cas?"

Cas nodded. "Time travel is difficult," he told the brothers. "Especially since I no longer have the full power of Heaven behind me and I had three passengers."

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up on that, dude," Dean mumbled.

"Can you tell us a story, Cas?" Cassie pleaded. "The one with Gabriel and the Cupid!"

"Not right now," Tasha intervened on the angel's behalf. "Cas is tired and needs to rest."

"The lady next door says he's always out whoring," Cassie announced, getting a chortled sputter from her mother and a snicker from both Winchesters.

"Cassie," Tasha admonished, "how many times have I told you not to listen to the lady next door?"

"Yes, Mommy." Cassie slumped her shoulders exaggeratedly and Sam thought he almost detected an eye roll. _Definitely Dean's kid._

"Do I even want to know?" Dean grinned at Cas, remembering his attempt to get the angel 'de-virginized' at a brothel just over two weeks ago. Things had not gone well for Cas. Dean had originally planned on trying again but after meeting hippie-Cas in the future with his drugs and his orgies, he had decided he liked his friend just the way he was, stick-up-the-ass and all.

"I can't believe it's only been a week," Tasha blurted, giving Dean a hard stare. "That means I'm …" she wrinkled her forehead in concentration, "…I'm about the same age as you." She turned her head to Sam. "Hey, Gigantor, I'm your elder now."

"You're a cougar," Sam teased.

"No, you're a MILF," Dean corrected, placing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. He dropped it almost immediately, however, when he remembered that although he had just seen her a week ago, she had lived some five years without him and it was presumptuous of him to assume they were together right now.

She slapped his chest playfully but didn't move away. "You're lucky the kids don't know what that means," she told him.

"What's a MILF?" Cassie chimed in, as if on cue.

"It's a name for a pretty, older lady," Tasha explained evasively.

"Mommy's a milf, Cas," Cassie giggled at the angel, who looked like he was about ready to pass out again.

Tasha groaned and gave Dean a playful glare. "Thanks for that," she said. "That'll be her new word for the next week."

She turned back towards the kids on the couch. "You two stay in here with Cas for a while, okay?" she told them. "Mommy's gonna go into the kitchen and make you some lunch with Daddy and Uncle Sam."

"But Cas is sleeping," Little Sammy said quietly, poking the now unconscious angel in the cheek and getting no reaction.

"Then you'd better keep quiet and don't wake him up," Tasha warned. "It's nap time, remember? If you don't want to stay and sleep here with Cas then I can put you back upstairs in the dusty bedroom."

"We'll stay here," was the quick reply from both kids in unison as they snuggled up obediently to the angel sitting on the couch with his head slumped forward.

Dean noticed Tasha smile when Sam picked up one of the blankets that he and Dean used when they crashed for the night and lay it over Cas's lap, tucking it in around the children. He felt her fingers entwining themselves in his as they stood together silently for a moment and watched Sam in his first act as doting uncle and Dean couldn't help but smile himself. He literally felt his heart expanding in his chest, like the frickin' Grinch at the end of that stupid Christmas movie.

Eventually she let go of his hand and moved away, gesturing for both brothers to follow her to the kitchen. Dean had to admit, he was impressed with Tasha's control over the kids. He got the impression she ran a tight ship, not nearly as tight and far more loving than the one John Winchester had run, but with little room for disobedience and nonsense. His heart was still beating a mile a minute as he followed her through the double doors to Bobby's messier-than-usual kitchen but he didn't even know where to start. There was so much he wanted to know about the two little beings in the other room, so much he had missed in their lives, so much time he was never going to get back. They were whole little people already and they didn't know him at all. He had always sworn he would be there for his kids, unlike his own father, and already he'd failed on that front.

His thoughts were interrupted by Tasha pulling him into another tight hug as soon as he rounded the corner. He returned it though he was a little surprised at the outpouring of open affection from her.

"God it's so good to see you again," she breathed in his ear, not letting go just yet.

It dawned on him suddenly that she hadn't seen him in five years or so where as he had seen her only last week. _Five years._

She finally released him and stepped back, still grinning. He studied her carefully and noted the subtle changes in her appearance. She was still totally hot as far as he was concerned, but there were small lines in her face that hadn't been there before. She was dressed in very low-rise jeans that were actually flared at the bottom and a baby-doll type top that screamed seventies. His mouth turned up at one end. "Are you a hippie now?" he teased.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, I've been living in the suburbs of Philly during 'Nam," she defended. "You were either a Stepford wife or what I like to call a free thinker."

The notion of five years lost struck Dean again at her words. He had no idea where she had been, how she had been living, how his kids had been living, or anything at all about the past five years for them. "Why did you stay so long?" he asked abruptly. "Why didn't you come back as soon as the baby … _babies_ … were born?"

She winced slightly, clearly picking up on the accusing edge to his voice. "Cas said he had some leads on finding God," she told him, glancing at Sam to include him in the conversation. "None of them panned out but…" She shrugged. "And he thought, no **_we_** thought, it would be better to keep the kids where it was safe. At least until they were old enough to defend themselves and make their own decisions." She held Dean's gaze. "You're the one who put all that 'free will' crap into Cas's head," she gave him a weak smile. "But it did make sense."

Sam noticed Dean still looked hurt and knew instinctively why. His brother had missed his own children's childhoods and was now comparing himself to John Winchester, doubting himself and blaming himself for things completely out of his control. "So what made you come back?" Sam asked Tasha, trying to change the subject.

"They found us," she said simply. "The angels. Suddenly we weren't any safer there than here so we came back." She looked back a Dean. "I'm so sorry you weren't there," she told him. "I'm sorry you didn't get to see them born and see their first steps and first words and all that but Dean -" there was a pleading tone to her voice, "- their safety had to come first. I had to do what I could to keep them alive and bringing them here as babies would have been putting them in danger. I'm so, so sorry."

Dean managed a nod. "Hey, it's not your fault," he said quickly. "I don't blame you." He hadn't intended his questions to come out as an accusation. He knew he was dangerous to be around. It was the ultimate piece of bad luck to be born as Dean Winchester's kid, a burden Sammy and Cassie had apparently inherited in spades.

"I told them all about you," Tasha continued, still looking apologetic. "They know you're their dad even if nobody else did. I know it was risky coz you can't ask a kid to keep a secret but I didn't want them to grow up not knowing who their real dad was. Their favorite bedtime story is the one where you save Uncle Sam from the two Rawheads."

Dean just nodded. He wasn't sure what she meant by 'real dad' and wondered just how much truth of monsters and the supernatural she had told them, but he was focusing more on the harsh truth that being his kid alone was considered a risk.

"I've got a question," Sam interrupted again after a long, silent pause. "Which one is it?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked his brother.

"I mean the prophecy or whatever it's called said _a_ _child_ , not two children. Since there's two, which is it?"

Dean's head snapped back to Tasha to answer that excellent question.

She shrugged. "We have no idea," she admitted, referring to her and Cas. "In fact, we don't think either team of angels or the demons know that there even is two. They just think there's one."

"Either team of angels?" Sam wasn't sure what she meant by that.

Tasha nodded. "There's the angels who want Dean to drop the soap so Michael can get all armored up for the big battle and kill Lucifer along with half the planet and then there's Uriel's angels," she clarified. "The ones who wanted Lucifer free and are now on his side. The turncoats."

Dean snorted. "Bet that douche Zachariah's one of Uriel's bitches," he griped scornfully.

"Zachariah may hold great disdain for humans and very little regard for God's true will, but he is utterly devoted to Michael and Raphael," came a deep but wavering voice from behind them.

All three hunters spun to see Cas standing in the doorway, leaning very heavily on Bobby's solid wood door frame.

"We must leave," the angel said urgently, looking at the three of them through shifting focus of his eyes. "They're coming."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know, a MILF is a pop-culture term (probably started by the movie American Pie) that stands for Mother I'd Like to F.... Just FYI :) Hope you like the kids so far.


	3. House of Cards

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Tasha tensed up immediately at Cas's announcement, stepping quickly around the angel and heading for the living room.

"Who's coming?" Dean demanded, his hunter's brain already running through the fight and flight options in his head.

Cas swayed on his feet and his eyelashes fluttered. He managed to stay upright but he didn't answer.

"Cas?" Sam said worriedly, stepping towards the angel and bunching a fist in the upper sleeve of his trench coat. "Is it demons or angels?" he pressed.

Blue eyes stared up at him, clearly struggling to stay open. Finally, his heavy eyelids won the fight and Cas slumped forward, his legs buckling from under him. Sam caught the angel with his forearms and held him up awkwardly, not sure what to do with him. He looked to Dean for an answer but his brother had already stepped back into the living room after Tasha.

"Do you know who's coming?" Dean asked the brunette, panic tracing the edges of his voice. He could face angels and demons up the wazoo and not care enough to bat an eyelash but the stakes were suddenly so much higher than they had ever been before. He had kids to protect. He didn't just have Sam to worry about but a whole family that were in immediate danger. His gut was knotted tighter than he could ever remember and a fear sharper than any he had known was slicing his insides to shreds.

Tasha just shrugged in answer to Dean's question as she picked Cassie up to sit on her hip, shushing her to keep quiet. She gestured for Dean to pick up Sammy, who was, astoundingly to Dean, already sleeping. _How the Hell did the kid fall asleep so fast?_ Dean bent down and scooped the little guy up, swallowing hard to keep in check all the emotions that were running through him as he touched his son for the first time. Sammy rolled towards Dean in his arms and buried his face in the hunter's shirt, Tonka truck still clutched tightly in his little hands.

"Where are we going, Mommy?" Cassie asked, her voice obediently hushed so as to not wake her brother.

"We've gotta go, sweetie," Tasha told her. "We're gonna go for a ride in your daddy's car, okay?"

"The Impelor?"

Dean beamed at his daughter. "It's an Impala," he corrected with amusement as he followed Tash towards the back door. Sam was just reaching it also, a passed out Cas hanging limply from his side.

"What about Bobby?" the younger Winchester asked as Tasha opened the door with her free hand and stepped outside onto the gravel, shifting Cassie on her hip to keep the little girl's eyesight off the unconscious angel.

"We'll have to call him," Dean answered, wincing at the thought of Bobby coming back home to find his house full of angels or demons who would be upset and angry at missing their intended prey and looking for somebody to take their frustration out on. "We'll tell him not to come home and to meet us somewhere instead."

"Grandpa Bobby?" Cassie piped up.

Dean chuckled. "Oh, I can't wait to see his face when she calls him that," he said.

"This is his house," the little blonde girl informed him as if Dean didn't know. "Mommy said he's like Gunter and his legs don't work no more."

Dean couldn't help but smile as he realized his kids did indeed know things about him and their family here, in the right decade. Tasha had kept them informed; maybe he wouldn't be such a stranger to them after all.

"Gunter was in the war," Cassie kept talking, clearly quite the chatterbox. Tasha lowered her into the back seat of the Impala and stood back up to take Sammy from Dean's arms as the little girl continued talking. "He got his legs blowed off. The lady next door says he wasn't right in the head after."

"What did I say about listening to the lady next door?" Tasha scolded as she climbed in, scooting the kids over to the middle of the seat. Sam dropped Cas rather gracelessly into the other side of the back seat and closed the door just as the angel slumped over against it.

Dean started up the engine and pulled forward while Sam was still sinking into his usual spot up front and closing his door. The younger Winchester turned to glance at the full seat behind him and couldn't help but grin at their newly expanded family. Little Sammy was just waking up and blinked at him with big doe eyes.

"Mommy, howcome Cas is still sleeping?" Cassie asked, her voice suddenly sounding like it was verging on crying. "Angels don't sleep."

"They do sleep, honey," Tasha explained soothingly. "They sleep after they transport people."

"Scotty doesn't sleep," Sammy said quietly. "He tanports Captain Kirk."

"Yeah, but Scotty has the Enterprise to do it for him," Dean pitched in, glancing at the two kids in his rear view mirror and smiling. "And Dilithium crystals."

Sammy looked thoughtful for a moment but he seemed to accept the answer. "Mommy, I'm hungry."

"Sammy, you're always hungry," Tasha smiled at him.

"Just like my Daddy, right?" Sammy grinned. That was clearly a familiar joke for them.

"Yes, just like your Daddy."

Sam was pulling out his phone to call and warn Bobby not to come home and noticed the huge grin on Dean's face as he signaled to turn onto the highway. Maybe the circumstances sucked and the timing was really crappy, but this was what Dean had always wanted. This was what Dean deserved. This was what would surely make the memories of Hell and of all the crap from last year and Sam's ultimate betrayal finally fade away into the past. This would give his brother some peace and much deserved happiness. Maybe this would fix what Sam couldn't after Dean came back from Hell gutted and broken.

"Have you guys ever been to a drive-thru?" Dean asked, turning in his seat to waggle an enthusiastic eyebrow at the kids.

"With the ladies on roller skates?" Cassie asked eagerly.

"No, that's a drive- _in_ ," Tasha informed her daughter. "Kind of the same only no roller skates."

"Wanna get some burgers and fries?" Dean clarified, earning a double cheer of Yay!'s from the back seat.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

The Big AZ drive-thru where they were to meet Bobby was just fifteen minutes from Singer Auto Salvage but they never reached it. As they passed through the industrial area on the edge of town, the car's engine suddenly died and Dean had to coast to a halt on the gravel shoulder outside a fair-sized fertilizer plant. Cassie started asking questions immediately.

"Did the Impelor breaked down?"

"Yes," Tasha answered, twisting around and straining to see out the back window before turning back to the Winchesters in front. Sam and Dean were eyeing their surroundings also, well aware that Dean's baby _never_   simply broke down and that there had to be a supernatural force at work here.

"Why?" Cassie asked cheerfully.

"Because cars do that," the brunette answered absently. "What do we do?" she asked the men in the front, unable to hide the tension from her voice.

"Why?" the question was repeated.

"Just because, sweetie."

Dean turned in his seat, his hand tapping the small of his back to confirm his 9mm was there as he opened the door. "Stay inside," he ordered Tasha before getting out. Sam mirrored his brother's actions, checking Ruby's demon knife was tucked in his own jeans waistline as he stepped out the passenger side and closed the door behind him.

"I don't like this, Dean," he said warily as the elder Winchester came around the front of the car to stand next to him.

"Tell me about it," Dean growled back. There was nothing around them save the plant a hundred yards away. It was Sunday and the place was closed with probably only a skeleton crew consisting of a couple of guys watching the premises.

"Could it have been Cas's mojo?" Sam wondered out loud, though he highly doubted that was the case. In their experience, car engines died when powerful demons were in the area.

Dean shook his head, his brow creased with worry. "I'll call Bobby," he said finally, seeing no approaching threat. "He'll come get us."

He was just hauling his phone out of his pocket when they heard a vehicle on the road. Both hunters tensed and stood stiffly, watching as it approached on the long, straight stretch of tarmac. Their hands instinctively went to their hidden weapons when it began to slow down.

It was a burgundy SUV. A man leaned out the passenger window as it coasted to a stop on the road next to the Impala. "You folks alright?" he asked in a friendly enough manner.

"Yeah, we're good," Dean waved him off. "Got a tow truck coming already. Thanks though."

The man's eyes wandered to the back seat. Tasha had somehow managed to get the kids to duck low but she and Cas were still visible.

"Looks like you got a full house there," the man pointed out. "We can take your family to town, if you'd like, while you wait for the tow." He smiled pleasantly. "No sense in you all waiting out here."

His persistence was rubbing Dean the wrong way. "I said we're fine, dude," he repeated, fingering his 9mm behind his back and wishing he had fished the holy water out of the trunk before leaving Bobby's.

The man gave him a long stare. "Suit yourself then," he shrugged, turning forward in his seat as if they were about to drive off.

They didn't. Both men suddenly threw open their doors and exited the SUV. The man who had been talking was the closest and threw a fast punch at Dean. The hunter ducked it and fired his 9mm repeatedly into the man's stomach as Sam raced towards them with Ruby's knife drawn.

The bullets had little effect and the man's eyes flashed black as he struck the hunter, sending him careening over the hood of the Impala. Sam only spared a sideways glance at his brother slamming painfully onto and over the hood of the car as he rushed forward, ramming the demon knife forward in a stab at the demon's throat.

The demon was too quick and leaned backwards out of the knife's reach before landing a solid fist in Sam's gut. Sam doubled over but hung on to the blade, throwing his weight forward to drive a shoulder into the man and using his bulk to knock the demon off his feet. It worked but by this time the second demon was within striking distance and landed a brutal uppercut to the young hunter's jaw.

Sam reeled backwards into the car, the momentum of the hit driving his head down onto the cold, hard metal hood. If he'd had any wind left in his lungs he would have cursed at himself when he felt the knife drop from his grip. His vision consisted of explosions of light and darkness and he fought to orientate himself. Minimal control of his senses slowly returned enough for him to realize he had sunk to his knees on the gravel by the front wheel of the car and his vision cleared enough for him to see Ruby's knife lying a few feet in front of him.

He made a lunge for it; a groggy, miscalculated lunge that missed its mark. His insides twisted when he saw the blur of a hand scoop the knife up before he could try a second time. He twisted around and fell back on his ass, his back against the Impala's wheel, panting and terrified of what would happen when they lost this fight, for surely now that the demons had the knife, the fight was as good as over.

But the demons didn't have the knife. The white blotches dissipated enough that he could see Tasha, standing facing both the demons with the knife held out in front of her. _Oh shit_ , he thought, momentarily forgetting that Tasha with a demon-killing blade in her hand was quite the lethal combination. He was quickly reminded of her skill with a blade when she lunged forward, faking left and dodging right and driving the blade hilt-deep into the side of the neck of the first demon.

Luminous flashes flickered below the demon's skin and his eyes hollowed out. Tasha withdrew the blade, not bothering to wait and watch the man drop before she turned to face off against the second demon whose face was still registering the shock of losing his partner. Sam could almost hear Bobby somewhere saying something about nothing being so dangerous as a mamma bear protecting her cubs. He grinned as he tried to push himself up to help but his head was still spinning and it seemed his knees couldn't figure out which way was up and he ended up slumping back down on his ass against the car wheel.

The second demon must have gathered his wits quickly because he managed to avoid Tasha's first lunge as well as the swipe she took at him on her backswing. He moved quickly and landed a solid blow to her shoulder before dancing backwards as she twisted around and swiped the knife at him as she fell.

With Tasha on the ground, the demon had the advantage. Sam felt panic racing through him as he tried again to rise to his knees, already knowing he wouldn't get to her in time. He didn't need to, however, because the large bulk that was Dean Winchester suddenly flew over his head and landed squarely on the demon, the pair slamming to the ground in a violent, squirming mass of punching fists and kicking boots.

Tasha was on her feet before Sam even made it to his knees and she hovered over the fighting pair with the blade still in her hand. "Dean!" she yelled. "I need an opening!"

Dean, although he seemed to be losing the fight to the much stronger opponent, somehow managed to roll himself under the demon, pinning the man's arms behind him. The demon saw Tasha above him with the blade held ready to strike but the fear in his face gave way to surprise as his gaze moved past her. "Holy shit! There's two!"

Those were the last words he uttered as Ruby's blade was driven deep into his belly, Dean struggling to hold him as the demon bucked and heaved while the life left him and his host's body. He shoved the limp form off him roughly and both he and Sam turned their heads immediately to follow Tasha's gaze backwards.

Two tiny faces were staring wide-eyed out the back window of the Impala.

"Shit," Tasha breathed, her voice hitching. "Kids, look away!" she said more loudly and sounding surprisingly calm as she dropped the knife and stepped quickly over towards them.

The new father of the bunch pushed himself upright and Sam couldn't help notice the look of near anguish on his face as he held out a hand to help Sam up, his attention squarely on the brunette leaning in the back door talking to the kids.

Dean steadied his giant of a little brother on his feet, his heart racing a mile a minute. Not only were his family in danger but he'd just let his four-year-old kids witness their parents killing two people. There was no taking that back. He hadn't wanted them to ever know this ugly side of life, apocalypse-entangled fate or not. He had wanted to fight this fight himself, shielding them forever from monsters and the things that go bump in the night. He had tried so hard to keep it all from Sam growing up but failed and now his own kids were right in the thick of it. Half an hour back in his world and they were screwed for life.

"They're not real," Tasha was telling the twins, leaning in the back door so they could no longer see the dead bodies on the gravel. "Remember when you tricked Cas into letting you watch Hawaii Five-O and that bad man died? Well he didn't really die, did he?"

Sam and Dean jumped into action, dragging the bodies around the front of the car and into the ditch where they covered them with some loose brush.

"It was just television," they heard Sammy finally say. "Like a movie. It was just rabsewwy juice."

"It was pretend?" Cassie whimpered, not sounding as sure.

"That's right. Now we gotta get into this other car, okay?" She ushered them out of the back seat and into the burgundy SUV as the brothers finished hiding the bodies. Dean tried the Impala's engine one last time while Sam lugged Cas over to the demons' vehicle. Cas groaned slightly as he was shuffled about but refused to wake up, despite several hard slaps to the face by the younger Winchester.

Dean finally gave up on his baby and hopped into the driver's seat of the SUV, pleased to see the keys were still in the ignition. He grabbed them and turned but nothing happened.

He turned again. Still nothing.

"Shi...uugar!" he almost-swore, slamming his fist on the steering wheel. "There must be more around," he concluded with more restraint, knowing Sam and Tasha would know he meant demons. "Otherwise the cars would work."

"How long 'til Bobby gets here?" Tasha asked from the back seat.

Dean groaned. "He's at least fifteen minutes away."

"We can't stay here," Sam said truthfully, looking around at their surroundings again. "We're sitting ducks."

"You're right," Dean agreed. "If we go to the plant gatehouse," he pointed to the small building that was the security office at the gate in the chain link fence surrounding the plant, "We can salt the doors and have at least some cover 'til Bobby gets here." He refrained from pointing out that the demon making the cars conk out could very well be in the gatehouse since it wasn't like they had any other options at this point.

The plan decided, they all tumbled back out of the SUV and gathered some weapons and salt from the Impala's arsenal. Sam once again got assigned Cas-duty and heaved the angel's arm over his shoulder grumbling about how much the guy weighed for someone who never ate. The kids were surprisingly quiet but Sammy clung to Tasha as she carried him down the asphalt driveway and Cassie buried her head in Dean's shoulder, her little fists bunched up in his shirt collar. It was all Dean could do to keep his breath steady as his heart slowly broke for them.

He handed Cassie over to Tasha as they neared the gatehouse and gestured for everyone to stay back while he approached it alone. With Ruby's knife gripped tightly in his hand, he walked up slowly and knocked on the drive-up window. A chubby, middle-aged man shuffled out of the back room looking decidedly annoyed to see him. After explaining that their car had broken down and his kids just wanted to use the washroom, the man grumpily agreed to let them come inside.

As soon as he was inside, Dean pulled his gun on the man and splashed him with holy water. To his chagrin, the man's face hissed and steamed and he jumped backwards howling. Dean drew the knife and quickly pinned the demon against the wall with the blade pressed against his throat, a trickle of blood soaking quickly into the meatsuit's security uniform.

"You recognize this knife?" he demanded fiercely. The demon nodded, his eyes going black. "Good." Dean's voice was cold. "Tell me how many demons are here."

Sam suddenly appeared at the window, hurdling his large frame through the opening with incredibly impressive grace. "Demon?" he asked simply.

It was an unnecessary question that Dean didn't bother answering. Instead he pressed the blade deeper into the demon's tender flesh. "How many?"

A smirk spread across the demon's face when he met Sam's gaze. "At least twenty," he said snidely past the pressure Dean was putting on his throat. "They know you're here. They're on their way and they'll be here any second." He turned to address the younger Winchester. "Is the child yours? If it is, you needn't worry, Sam. Our Father won't harm it any more than he would harm you. On the contrary, in fact. He's the only one who can protect it from the angels. He'll treat it and love it like it was his own child."

Dean increased the pressure on the knife, cutting off the man's ability to talk. "Lucifer isn't getting his hands anywhere near my kids," he spat before swiping his wrist sideways, slicing the man's neck wide open and stepping back as the lights of death flashed from the falling body.

The hunter didn't waste any time in dragging the body into the back room and closing the door. Sam went back outside to usher Tasha and the kids in and to pick Cas back up from where he had unceremoniously dropped him in the dirt upon hearing the demon howling inside. As he was slinging the groggy but finally awake angel's arm back over his shoulder for what seemed like the umpteenth time, he glanced down the road and saw a line of four vehicles on the horizon. Three vans and an SUV.

 _Shit_. The demon must have been telling the truth. This was a quiet road on a Sunday and the cluster of vans was way too suspicious to be anything but demons at this point.

"Dean!"

His brother was outside in a flash, seeing what Sam had seen and assessing the situation. There was no way they could beat the oncoming vehicles back to the Impala, even if it did start now that the gate-demon was dead, and there was no way they could hold them off cornered in the tiny gatehouse. Dean glanced towards the plant. It was big and there were a heck of a lot more places to hide. They could try to set traps for the demons as they went; maybe even take out a few. He definitley liked their odds better in the complicated layout of the plant.

One glance told Sam everything the younger hunter needed to know and Sam nodded sharply, yanking Cas up by the back of his pants and heading towards the small gate in the fence to the main building thirty feet down the driveway. Dean took Cassie back from Tasha and stepped into the lead while Sam and the angel brought up the rear.

Once inside, they closed the doors behind them and salted the threshold. All three hunters discovered quickly this was hard to do one-handed while carrying either a child or an angel. Sam called Bobby once more to update him on the situation and the older hunter suggested he pick them up at the service road near the back of the plant. They proceeded deeper into the mass of pipes and machinery, making their way towards the back of the place and hoping to avoid any contact until the cavalry arrived.

They soon became swallowed up in the maze of equipment and machinery but kept going, trying to keep the kids unaware by chuckling with them as both of them complained that it 'stank like Gunter's farts in here'. Gunter's farts apparently smelled like ammonia. They all filed through a narrow tunnel that vaguely seemed to be heading in the right direction and squeezed past a large propane tank at the end to emerge out into a big, empty industrial room.

The only other exit was a large set of steel doors on the far wall. If Dean's calculations were correct, and his sense of direction was never far off, then these doors led to outside at the back of the plant. He and Sam immediately went to work trying to get them open, which was no easy task. Meanwhile, Tasha sat the kids down in the middle of the room with Cas, who was thankfully becoming more and more alert. By the time the brothers started on the last of the thick, steel droplocks, the angel was staggering to his feet.

By this time, however, they had company. Two men ran into the room through the same tunnel they had entered. Their eyes were inky black and they raced immediately towards the brunette and the swaying man in the trench coat.

"Dean!" Tasha screamed, lunging immediately for the first of the two demons. She only carried a Glock and a plain silver blade, however, neither of which did any good against her super-strengthed attacker.

Sam and Dean turned the instant they heard her cry out but she was disarmed and pinned back against the first man by the time they got to the middle of the room. The demon's arm was around her neck and her Glock was being pried out of her fingers. The second demon had headed right for the kids only to be intercepted by Cas, who put up an honorable fight considering he could barely walk but quickly ended up on his back at the demon's feet.

Dean charged the demon who had taken Cas out, Ruby's knife making quick work of killing him. Sam squared off against the other one but had to hold back for the demon now had the Glock pressed to Tasha's temple.

"One step closer and she's dead!" he shouted, stopping both Winchesters flat in their tracks.

"Hey, you don't wanna do this," Dean warned, holding the knife up for the demon to see. "Just let her go and you walk away."

"Give me the kid ... sorry, make that _kids_ ... and you can have her," the demon fired back.

"Fuck you!" Tasha spat, struggling against his hold but clearly outmatched in strength. "Dean, just go!"

"Hold on," Dean said, as much to Tasha as to the demon. "We can work this out. You don't want to end up like your buddy over here, do you?" He jerked his head towards the dead demon on the floor.

Both children were crying loudly and calling for their Mommy. "Stay with Cas!" Tasha ordered them. "Mommy's fine." They obeyed immediately, both gripping onto the angel, who had managed to rise to his knees, his disheveled hair falling over his eyes. "Cas," Tasha rasped, "Can you get us out of here?"

The angel furrowed his brow, clearly trying to conjure some mojo but was too weak. "No," he said, his voice deep and raspy and laden with guilt.

"How about the kids?" Tasha pleaded. "Just take them. Please Cas."

"Nobody's going anywhere!" the demon snapped, yanking Tasha harshly and taking a few steps backwards towards the tunnel, eyeing Dean nervously. The hunter had been approaching steadily while the conversation had been distracting the demon.

It was apparent by now that Cas was unable to 'transport' even just the children in his current state. He was completely out of juice. The demon was becoming increasingly nervous, still backing up with Tasha in his grasp.

"Stay the fuck where you are!" he hollered at Dean, who froze, Sam coming to a halt right beside him. The demon pulled Tasha's Glock away from her temple and pointed it at the brothers. "Back up,' he ordered.

"It's not gonna do you any good to leave with her," Dean warned, only taking one slow step backwards but making sure he kept his bulk between the waving gun and his kids. "Your boss doesn't want her. You let her go and I swear you walk out of here."

The demon tightened his fingers around Tasha's neck and started to laugh. "I don't need to take her with me," he said snidely, backing up more quickly now and putting more distance between himself and the brothers. "I just needed to keep you here."

They all heard the thunder of approaching footsteps and voices coming from the tunnel. _A lot_   of footsteps. Tasha's eyes were wild. "Go!" she shouted past the hand around her throat.

It all happened so fast Sam barely had time to process it all. He heard the clatter and the multiple shouts of the demon reinforcements approaching in the narrow hall and knew at that moment they were screwed. Even if they turned and ran and left Tasha there, they wouldn't get far. The door at the back wasn't even open yet. The nephew and niece he'd just met were going to be taken from them and most likely killed and Tasha, Cas, and Dean were all going to die painful deaths within minutes. Only Sam would be spared at Lucifer's will in hopes he would say yes and seal the fate of the rest of humanity. He could only spare a fleeting thought of guilt at this all being his fault for unleashing Lucifer on them all in the first place because his attention was snatched by the words Tasha was screaming at the weakened angel.

"Cas! Shield them! Shield them!"

Not sure what she meant he glanced at a kneeling Cas to see him give her a solemn nod of understanding and pull the closer kids towards him, practically drawing them in under his coat as he turned his back to them. He saw Dean and Tasha lock eyes for the briefest of moments before his brother was screaming also.

"No! Tash NO!"

Sam snapped his head back round towards the brunette just in time to see her snatch her own big Glock back from demon's hand. "Keep them safe!" she yelled directly at Dean and started firing. At first Sam thought she was trying to shoot the demons as they appeared at the mouth of the hallway but the sparks her first few shots caused quickly told him otherwise.

She was shooting at the propane tank.

The consequences of this had barely registered before the blast came. He felt it before he heard it, a violent rush of hot, gritty air that knocked him off his feet before the fiery explosion that followed filled the entire far end of the room in a split second. Dean had been standing next to him and he could feel his brother's body tumbling into his as he, too was thrown to the ground.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	4. The Show Must Go On

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Sam frantically freed himself from the tangle of limbs and pushed himself stiffly up to his knees. His whole body throbbed, his ears were ringing, and he was furiously blinking dust and grit out of his eyes. He threw his hand up in front of his face to shield himself from the intense heat billowing from the flames at the far end of the room. It seemed strangely dark and he struggled for breath in the thin, hot air. Turning to see a form rising next to him he reached out and grabbed his brother's shoulder.

"Dean," he rasped, his voice barely audible. "Y'kay?"

Dean caught his eye for the briefest of seconds, just long enough for the elder Winchester to confirm Sam was alive, before turning his attention to the beige form hunched over behind them. "Cas?" he choked. "Cas. The kids? Cas!"

Cas had managed to stay on his knees and turned around slowly, opening his coat to reveal his arms had been wrapped around the children, sheltering them from the blast and the radiating heat. Sam could make out blinking eyes on both kids and his heart thumped in relief, though it would have been impossible to miss the sheer terror in those tiny stares.

Dean let out a sound of relief that almost sounded like a whimper. Still on all fours, he spun around to face the source of the explosion and struggled to his feet, Sam following suit a split second later.

"Tash!" Dean called, staggering forward.

Sam took in the mess of tangled steel and crumbled block walls strewn where she had been standing and his heart dropped. There was no way she could have survived. The tank had been nestled in the corner, supported by a steel frame and partially surrounded by a cinderblock wall. The demon had been holding Tasha only ten feet from the tank when she had shot at the rear nozzles near the bottom. Her aim had directed most of the blast and searing heat up the tunnel where the demons had been approaching, but the flames had still swallowed up that entire end of the room. Even if the tank pieces and the steel frame weren't now in a twisted heap right where she had been standing, she would have been burnt to a crisp. Sam knew Tasha was gone.

Dean apparently hadn't figured that out yet. "TASH!" he screamed, his voice thick with emotion and fear. He lunged forward towards the dust and the dying flame and reached the still-trembling pile of debris just as a loud _SNAP!_   sounded and what was left of the steel frame toppled down, slamming onto the ground just a foot away from the hunter.

Dean recoiled only slightly, throwing his elbow up in front of his face for cover and coughing harshly before moving forward again. Sam caught up with him and wrapped a fist in his shirt, yanking him backwards.

"Dean!" he shouted, trying in vain to get his brother's attention. "Dean!"

Dean tried to shake himself free without even turning around. "Tash!" he called again, straining forward but Sam held on tight, gripping him with two hands and tugging him back towards Cas and the kids.

"Dean, she's gone," he rasped, panting harshly as the struggling escalated and he managed to force Dean to his knees, wrestling to keep him in place. "She's gone!"

"No," Dean choked. "No."

"She's gone," Sam repeated, feeling like crap for having to drive that nail through his already fragile brother but he needed him to get a grip. "She's gone."

"No, no, no. I'm not leaving her. She's … she's…no."

He felt Dean's grasp loosen and the fight in him subside slightly. "You've got others to think about now," Sam added softly, his fist still wrapped in Dean's dust-covered jacket.

He watched his brother's head swivel to where Cas was still hunched over, barely conscious again but nevertheless still wrapped protectively around Cassie and Sammy. The ringing in Sam's ears was lessening and the sound of the little girl's terrified sobs reached him. He recognized the second the paternal instinct in Dean overcame his fear and grief when his brother's shoulder slumped into Sam's chest.

"The blast torched the demons but they might not all be dead," Sam continued, knowing Dean would now be able to process logic and reason. "They'll find some other bodies to possess soon enough 'cause emergency teams'll be here soon so we gotta go."

He released Dean and watched him take one last look back towards the pile of rubble.

"I can't carry everyone," Sam added, just in case.

"Let's go," Dean said throatily, heading for the angel and the twins. He bent down and coaxed Cassie and Sammy into his arms, urging them gently as neither wanted to let go of the more familiar man. "Hey, it's okay now," he said soothingly. "It's over. Daddy's gonna get you out of here. Let's get out of here, huh?" He finally stood, sitting one child on each hip and Sam moved in to haul Cas back on his feet.

The back door had been shaken loose in the blast and Sam kicked it open with relative ease. They tumbled out into the afternoon sun just as an older model van badly in need of a paint job smashed through the rear chained gate and skidded to a halt a few feet away.

"Get in!" Bobby yelled out his window and they all piled into the back, Sam dropping Cas down as gently as he could before moving to shut the back doors and Dean sliding down the van wall to the metal floor with a child still clinging to each side.

Dean knew they were a dirty, beaten, tattered looking bunch and understood why Bobby didn't bother to ask if they were okay as the mechanic skidded back out onto the service road. The fact that they _weren't_   okay was written all over their faces and in the terrified cries of the twins. All that mattered at this point to their old friend was that they were still standing. In true hunter's fashion, they would deal with the rest later.

Only they weren't all still standing. Tasha was gone. It was bad enough Dean's heart was twisting in grief and loss for someone he loved deeply but in a flash, literally and figuratively, the responsibility of the two tiny humans he was cradling next to him fell solely on his shoulders. It had been a heavy enough burden when he thought he'd have Tasha to share it with, someone who'd had five years to get used to this parenting thing and someone who had clearly loved them at least as fiercely as he would - _did_.  Now he was alone.

The twins were both crying loudly.

"My ears hurt!" wailed Cassie.

"I want Mommy!" sobbed Sammy.

Dean felt his throat constricting and struggled to get the words of comfort out of his mouth as he pulled them even closer to him. "I know, I know," he sympathized. "It'll be okay, kids. Everything's gonna be fine. We're gonna get out of this place, 'kay?" His assurances didn't seem to be doing any good.

 _God, he wasn't equipped to do this by himself_!

He knew he had family to help but right now he felt lost and alone and so far out of his depth. Bobby was paralyzed, a gift he had received for saving Dean's life, and was still adjusting to his new situation. Sam was … well Sam wasn't what he used to be. Sam had failed Dean so colossally and had broken his trust so badly that Dean just didn't know if he could ever trust him the same again. Not with his own life and especially not with that of his children. Sam always did what Sam thought was best – Dean's wants or needs be damned.

Bobby pulled over at the Impala out front of the plant and the younger Winchester jumped out of the van, closing the doors quickly behind him. Emergency crews would indeed be here very soon and leaving their car on the scene would be a really bad move. Dean knew this but just couldn't bring himself to care about the car at this moment. He saw the worried glances Bobby kept throwing over his shoulder but was thankful the mechanic didn't say anything just yet. Dean needed a few more minutes to collect himself before he would be able to make introductions and explain why they were one person short.

Cas was lying still on the van floor with his head propped up on a duffle bag, completely out again. Cassie suddenly loosened the tiny fist she had in Dean's shirt and pulled away from him, crawling across the van floor to snuggle up next to the angel instead. Sammy followed suit a few seconds later, tucking himself in on Cas's other side. Dean swallowed and his heart lurched at the rejection but he let them go, understanding that he was a complete stranger to them and right now they needed something familiar, something they considered safe. After all, he had been just about their age when he too had seen his mother die and he remembered both the panic and terror of that night as well as the confusion and uncertainty of the days that followed when he finally realized his mom wasn't coming back. The path his kids' lives were taking suddenly bore a sickening resemblance to that of his own and he knew he couldn't let that continue. He had to end this.

_God, he sounded like John Winchester._

He pushed down the feelings of resentment threatening to rise as both kids curled up at the angel's side and their crying subsided to tired sobs.

' _Goddamnit Tash_!' he cursed inwardly, not sure if he was angry or thankful for her sacrifice. He couldn't decide if her actions had been the bravest thing she had ever done or the stupidest thing she had ever done. He eventually figured it didn't matter since it had been the **_last_** thing she had ever done.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_Two weeks ago …_

Dean didn't make a conscious decision to head to Wyoming, to Tasha; the Impala just sort of drifted in that direction after his last hunt. Maybe it was that he'd just taken out a vamp and memories of the vampire Diego had steered his mind towards the brunette or maybe it was just that he and Sam had been apart for a week and a half now and this new hole inside him wasn't going away. Since Sam had bummed a ride with a camper from that park in Colorado, barely an hour had gone by that Dean hadn't thought of his brother.

A small part of him felt relief. Relief that Sam and all the selfish, stubborn, _stupid_   things the kid did were no longer his responsibility. Relief that he no longer had to worry about losing Sam, whether to some hunt gone wrong or from him going darkside or ... to freaking _demon blood!_   Relief from the knowledge that he'd never again have to stand there and be put last by the person who meant more to him than anything, the person he had always put first. Dean had always given and Sam had always taken and _still_   Sam had chosen Ruby over his brother. Stanford, Jessica, a chance at normal - Dean could forgive Sam for abandoning him for them, but _a demon?_

The relief was what he clung to but truthfully, he was mostly hurt and alone and scared shitless of what they had just unleashed on the unsuspecting planet. He was convinced the end wasn't far off and he just wanted to see her face one last time before it was over.

He needed to say he was sorry. She had been sent into hiding from demons by the angels because supposedly, if Lucifer was unleashed then she would have some important role to play. It was 'written', whatever the Hell that meant. Her potential fate had been Dean's strongest motivation for the past year to stop Lilith but he had failed. He hadn't stopped Sam and he hadn't stopped Lilith and now Tasha was in even more serious danger. They still didn't know why but Cas was working on finding that out. Now that the angel had gone rogue, getting the 4-1-1 on all the latest angel headlines was a lot more difficult for him.

As soon as the brothers had landed from being zapped onto that plane above St. Mary's, Dean had sent a 9-1-1 text to Tash. His only contact in a year had been the signal that things had gone badly and she was to split. Upon his resurrection after being killed by Chuck's archangel, Cas had sought her out and marked her ribs before Zachariah's crew had thought to go looking for her. Dean knew she had been living somewhere in Vermont for the past year with a retired hunter couple, something Bobby had set up and kept very quiet, but after the 9-1-1, she would have moved to the back-up location, a cabin somewhere near Lander, Wyoming.

He knew he shouldn't be risking going to see her, risking bringing angels and demons her way, and he tried to convince himself to take every single exit he passed and head in some other direction but the Impala's signal just wouldn't turn on. Dean was closer to falling apart than he had ever been and he needed to see her. He just needed her.

=0=0=

Tasha sighed as she killed the engine of her Challenger, a gift that Dean had wrangled out of a biker gang for her when he had saved the leader from an angry spirit rider last year. She knew she wasn't supposed to be hunting for fear of running into demons but she had lasted all of three weeks climbing the walls in Vermont before she said 'screw this' and walked out with her hunting duffle over her shoulder. It had been bad enough she had to live with complete strangers away from the only two people she cared about but to just sit around, or worse, get a job at the local diner like they had suggested? No way - that just wasn't her style.

That was a year ago.

She had been freed from the curse of having a two-thousand year old vampire hunting down and killing her family only to become the wanted prey of thousands of demons a few hours later. Literally hours. She had spent the year living with Karl and Helen, retired German hunters who gave her some space and had turned out to be genuinely terrific people, but she still took on the occasional hunt. Small stuff mostly; things she was certain weren't demon-related.

After Dean's infuriatingly uninformative text, Karl hadn't been able to get a hold of Bobby Singer to see what was going on. Were the demons on to her? Had Lucifer been freed? She couldn't even bring herself to think about what that meant for the Winchesters. Were they even still alive? She had sworn to Dean she would obey Cas and not contact the brothers directly and would only go through Karl and Bobby if there was an emergency, but it had been almost two weeks and she was a single thread away from breaking that vow.

So Tasha had moved to the back-up hideout, Karl's cabin in Wyoming, and found herself surprisingly pleased the elderly couple had insisted on accompanying her there. Cas had shown up the day after she'd arrived here and done something to her ribcage, insisting other angels were no longer to be trusted and that this would keep her hidden from both them and demons. As for Sam and Dean, Cas had simply confirmed they were alive before disappearing.

Unable to hang around and do nothing but worry, she had done some digging to keep busy and had uncovered some signs hinting towards a poltergeist three towns over. It had been a simple hunt but she'd been up all last night and all day waiting for the thing to show. A few bruises later, it was now after midnight and was so ready for bed. As she stepped out of the car just after midnight, she noticed the downstairs light was still on. Karl and Helen were definitely not night owls and a flicker of worry passed through her as she opened the front door warily.

There was Dean. He was sitting back on the couch with Karl, nursing a glass of whiskey.

"Dean!" she cried, dropping her duffle and racing over to greet the hunter. He smiled as she approached but she couldn't miss the slightly glazed look in his beautiful green eyes. He returned the hug emphatically but didn't get up. When she finally let him go and straightened up, she peered around the room for Sam.

"Where's your brother?" she asked without thinking and the crestfallen look on Dean's face made her heart lurch. "Oh my God!" she gasped, her hand slapping over her mouth. "Is he…?"

"He's fine," Dean answered convincingly, though the haunted look remained just behind his dismissive wave of the hand. "He just decided to take a break from hunting." He took a long drink out of the glass in his hand, using the action as an obvious excuse to look away.

His words were slurred. Tasha frowned and turned to the elderly German man on the other end of the couch. "Karl, you got him drunk," she said accusingly.

Karl laughed and put his hands in the air. "Don't look at me," he defended. "He was that way when I found him. The bartender at the local tavern is the daughter of a friend of mine. I asked her to keep an eye out for suspicious people nosing around. This joker was hanging around all night before asking if she knows a girl with a red 1970 Challenger. She guessed that was you and called me to warn me."

"He thought I was a demon," Dean grinned. "Made me drink a whole flask of holy water."

"I knew who you were when I first laid eyes on you, son," Karl chuckled. "The holy water was just trying to sober you up."

"He made me leave my baby at the bar," the younger man griped good-naturedly, his eyes having fixed themselves back on Tasha.

"You were too drunk to drive my young friend. Your car will be fine 'til morning." Karl rose stiffly to his feet and gave Tasha an understanding nod. "Well, I think you two kids need some time to yourselves and it's way past my bedtime. Helen will surely have my hide if I dare sleep in tomorrow. Good night." He headed towards the narrow stairs.

Dean was still sitting and Tasha was still standing in front of him. There was a momentary hush as they listened to the old man make his way slowly upstairs to bed.

"God, you look good." It was Dean who broke the silence.

Tasha couldn't help but smile. She practically fell onto the couch next to him, her hand instantly making its way to his cheek. "I wish I could say the same for you," she said bluntly, tracing the weary line of his jaw. "You look tired. Do I want to know what happened?"

Dean's eyes glossed over and the look of pain on his face was heart wrenching. He slumped back into the couch and stared down at the liquid in his glass. "Cas didn't tell you?" he asked without looking up.

Tasha snorted. "That guy's annoying. He wouldn't tell me anything. And he's bossy."

Dean didn't smile.

"It was Sam," he murmured quietly. "Sam let Lucifer out. He trusted Ruby over me and he killed Lillith and broke the last seal." He finally looked up, meeting her gaze and her heart almost stopped at the pain she saw within him. "He chose a demon," he rasped.

She remained silent, taking it all in. She could hear that vulnerability in his voice that she remembered from their two months together only tenfold. That had been almost a year and a half ago but to her, it felt like yesterday. She had been unnervingly comfortable in his arms, opening up to him more than she ever had to anyone and knew the sentiment had been mutual. She got the feeling he needed to talk now so she shuffled herself closer to him, drawing one of her legs up onto the couch to face him and resting her hand on his thigh.

And talk he did. He started with how Lucifer had been freed and then jumped backwards to everything that had happened up to that point. He told her about Hell, how it had been forty years for him and how he had refused Alistair for only thirty of them. Her heart twisted with horror and pity as he admitted to giving in and climbing down off the rack, which turned out to be the first seal. She couldn't think of anything to say in comfort, no words could possibly be enough, so she just sat there with her hand on his leg and listened.

He told her about Sam's new abilities and divulged that Ruby had convinced him to start drinking demon blood and he'd become a junkie for it. Tasha felt a pang of guilt at the revelation that Ruby was working with Lilith all along; she should have known and put that knife of hers through her skanky demon heart. Dean described his dismay at seeing Sam 'exorcize' Samhain and how he had first started to doubt the angels when they had tried to kill Anna for no crime other than thinking for herself. Tasha felt a flicker of jealousy when he spoke of the fallen angel and she caught a brief glimpse of guilt in his eyes that he was obviously too drunk to cover. It wasn't like she and Dean had established any official committed relationship or anything before they had separated - they never really talked about that kind of thing - but she hadn't been with anyone else since Dean. She hadn't even wanted to.

Then he told her about Adam. Dean valued family more than anything else and for him to have found another brother only to realize he had actually lost him two days earlier must have been devastating for him. He kept talking for a long time, his voice unwavering save for the slight alcohol-induced slur. He finally stopped and let out a long, tired sigh before draining the last drop of whiskey from his glass. His head tipped back and he closed his eyes.

Tasha swallowed as she stared at him. He was so … broken. She had seen the angsty mess he had been in after he had first come back from Hell but had thought that would heal slowly as time passed. She realized now the past year had actually make things worse. She felt a flash of anger directed at Sam, whose job it had been to put Dean back together. Instead, he'd apparently chosen revenge and gone down a dark and dangerous path that had ultimately hurt Dean even more. Dean had given his soul for Sam and Sam had failed him.

She took the empty glass gently from the hunter's grasp and laid it on the table. Leaning in, she kissed his cheek softly before pulling back and curling her fingers around his hand. "I think you need to go to bed," she told him truthfully, tugging him gently to his feet.

He gave her a long look before a half-hearted grin spread across his face. "With you?"

She smiled at him and shook her head. "You need sleep," she told him, leading him towards the stairs. "Besides, it's a small place and my room's right next to Helen and Karl's."

He rolled his eyes and groaned as she led him towards the stairs. "I'm not tired," he told her, dragging behind. "Tash, I … I ... don't sleep well these days," he admitted, stopping on the landing at the turn in the narrow stairway and tugging her to a halt.

She turned around to face him. "I think the beer and whisky might help you out with that."

He stepped forward and pushed her back up against the stairwell wall, the railing digging in her lower back. "I think _you_   might help me out with that," he breathed in her ear, his hands going to her hips.

"Uh, Dean …" she stammered, glancing nervously up the stairs towards the elderly couple's closed door. Seeing and kissing and touching Dean had been all she had thought about for the past year but she wasn't sure what to make of him now that he was here. He was just so fucked up.

"Come on, babe," he murmured, nibbling at her ear.

"You're drunk," she argued feebly, melting at the use of the old pet name.

He grabbed her by the thighs suddenly and lifted, perching her on the railing attached to the landing wall and pressing his body heavily against hers. Within seconds his lips were on hers and before she knew it, he was tugging at her shirt while she worked his belt free.

It really wasn't how she had expected her next time with Dean to be, rough and hard and up against the wall in a tiny stair landing with his hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from waking up the elderly couple upstairs. There was something so desperate and so needy in the way he was taking her, something almost frantic. She couldn't help think he was trying to find something … no, to _feel_   something. She had seen the despair and the desolation pouring out of him all night and badly wanted to give him whatever he needed to feel better, even if that was simply to mask the emotional hurt with physical pleasure.

She didn't feel like she had succeeded when they both finished and he held there for a long time, his forehead pressed against the wall behind her and his breath hot and raspy in her ear. He finally pulled back slightly, just enough for her to drop her feet back to the floor. She thought he was going to step away but instead he tipped his head and moved in to kiss her. His hands cupped her face and surprisingly, considering what had just happened, the kiss was long, slow, and gentle. She relaxed, feeling the old Dean returning with every second his lips were on hers, the intensity and the passion mounting until he finally withdrew and exhaled slowly. "Tash," he breathed, staring deeply into her brown eyes.

"You okay, Dean?" she whispered back, worried.

He nodded. "I will be." He was still staring at her intently. "I've missed you."

"Let's get you to bed," she suggested, suddenly overwhelmed by his intensity. He nodded, swaying slightly as he stepped backwards. Tasha chuckled, amazed at how anyone as drunk as he was had just done what he had. But then again, he had always been more than capable in that regard.

She grabbed her jeans from the floor and wrapped her arm around his, leading him up the narrow staircase into her sparse room. He dropped himself heavily onto the bed and grinned suggestively at her. "Round two?"

She snorted but laughed. Yes, that was the Dean she remembered. He was passed out before she even reached the bed.

=0=0=

Dean was alone when he woke up. He glanced at his watch and was stunned to find it was past noon. He had slept for hours. He felt more rested than he had in a long, long time, despite his foggy memory of the previous night. He remembered talking to Tash and had a vague recollection of sex with her … _on the stairs?_ He rolled off the bed and hauled his boots on before heading down to the main floor.

There was an elderly lady with a grey-haired pony-tail making her way around the kitchen and the smell drifting through the small cottage was absolutely delightful. Bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, sausages.

She must have noticed him drooling because she laughed as he approached. "Tasha figured you'd be up soon," she greeted him. "Said this was your favorite. Hi, I'm Helen, by the way."

"Dean," the hunter acknowledged. "Where is Tash?"

There was a deep, throaty rumble outside that grew louder then stopped. Dean recognized the Impala instantly.

"She and Karl went to get your car from the tavern," Helen told him, ushering him onto a stool and dumping a full plate in front of him.

The brunette and the older man came in chuckling to each other and Tasha beamed at Dean when she saw him. He almost jumped up to greet her with a hug or a kiss but the aroma from the food before him held him prisoner and he simply returned her smile as he dug in. Helen had made bacon sandwiches for the rest of them and the four sat around the kitchen table making small talk in what turned out to be the most pleasant meal Dean could remember since his return from the pit. He couldn't keep his eyes off the brunette next to him and for the first time, he thought maybe things would work out. Maybe he could find the Colt and kill Lucifer and maybe, just maybe, he could have this every day.

But for now, he had to leave. He was putting Tasha at risk just being here. Helen shoo'd them into the living room while she and Karl did the dishes and as soon as they were alone, Dean pulled her into a kiss.

She didn't seem surprised when he told her he had to leave and shushed him when he said he shouldn't have come here in the first place. As he sank down behind the wheel of his car, he realized he wanted badly to stay, even just for another day. He started up the car's engine with a sigh. Staying would only put her in danger and the last thing he wanted to do was put her in danger.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_Present …_

Dean didn't even realize where they were until the sound of Bobby's rural drawl snapped him out of the memory and his efforts to choke back tears.

"And two kids meals with, uh, the chicken nuggets I guess … oh, and a toy."

 _Shit._ They were at the Big AZ drive-thru. He was off to a bad start - thank fuck for Bobby. Dean had been a father for just over an hour and a half and he had already forgotten to feed the children. He had to get it together and look after these kids because he was now the only parent they had.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, Tasha's role in this story is far from over - there will be flashbacks to her time with Cas in the 60's :)


	5. In the Eye of the Storm

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Bobby drove to a small, quiet park ten minutes out of town in the opposite direction of the fertilizer plant and cut the van's engine after pulling up next to a picnic table. Dean heard the rumble of the Impala behind them shutting off a few seconds later.

"Shouldn't we keep going?" he asked, the first words he had spoken to Bobby since getting in the van half an hour ago. "Get out of South Dakota?"

Bobby shook his head, twisting around in his seat to see the ragged crew he'd just rescued. "I think a nice picnic is in order," he said gently, giving the twins a friendly smile. "Besides," he added, "you can't go traipsin' around the country these days with two littl'uns and no car seats. That'll get ya pulled over faster n' green grass goes through a goose."

Dean nodded, once again thankful Bobby at least knew what to do for the kids. They had been quiet since curling up with Cas, who was still completely out, but they still looked scared and shaken.

"Hey kids," he said, trying his hardest to sound like there was nothing wrong. "Hear that? Grandpa Bobby wants to have a picnic. You guys still hungry?"

Sammy sat up, his face still tear-streaked but his brown eyes widening with interest. Cassie looked at Dean from her position tucked in under the angel's arm. "Grandpa Bobby?" she asked, looking skeptical.

Dean couldn't decipher the look on Bobby's face at the name; it could have been annoyance or amusement, but there was definitely a touched smile emerging. "Yep," he forced a grin onto his face. "That's Grandpa Bobby." He pointed to the man in the driver's seat.

It quickly became apparent Cassie's spunk had survived the blast for she sat up quickly and put her hands on her hips. "Nu-uhh," she shook her head. "Mommy says Grandpa Bobby's in a whee-chair. He can't drive a car."

Bobby laughed, his brown eyes sparkling. "You wanna bet?" he challenged. "You and your brother come on out and I'll show you how I can drive."

That seemed to spark the kids' interest because when Dean opened the back door and stepped out onto the grass, they both rushed to the edge of the van and outstretched their arms at him for help in getting down. He lowered them one at a time onto the ground and ushered them round to the driver's door, where they watched in awe as Bobby's door opened and the mechanized arm brought him and his wheelchair down.

During the distraction, Sam came over to Dean, his face showing the full-on exaggerated 'Sammy-feels-your-pain' look. "You okay, Dean?" he asked quietly.

Dean wasn't anywhere near okay or ready to talk about what had happened so he took a casual step away from his brother, just in case the walking tower of switch-on, switch-off emo decided to put a hand on his shoulder or any such nonsense. Dean had just watched someone he loved die; something that wouldn't have happened if Sam had just trusted him instead of that skank, Ruby.

"Dean, I know what you're going through," Sam pressed. "I mean, not the kids part, but Tasha…"

"I'm fine," Dean said, hoping his abruptness would put an end to Sam's latest attempt at fixing their relationship. Too little, too late.

"No, you're not," Sam rebutted. "I understand you don't want to talk about it right now but Dean, I know how you feel."

"How could you?" Dean dismissed without looking at his brother, his voice a hoarse whisper. Sam had cared about Tasha but not anything like the way Dean had.

"I watched Jessica burn, remember?" Sam reminded him quietly. "I wouldn't wish that feeling on my worst enemy. I just … I just want you to know I'm here for you now, okay?" If trying to get Dean to share his feelings with him before had been tough, Sam felt completely unworthy now, after all he had done to break his brother's trust in the past year. But he wasn't going to give up. He would never give up. "I mean, I know I screwed up before but … I'm different now. I'm here for you and … your family."

Dean swallowed. How had he forgotten about what Sam had gone through losing Jessica? The similarities were pretty hard to miss. That made all three Winchester men who had lost the women they loved to demons and fire. The first two had taken the road of vengeance afterwards with even worse consequences because of it, but Dean wasn't revenge-driven; he never had been. He just wanted to protect what he had left.

He spared a glance at his brother, who was still giving him the puppy-dog eyes filled with pity, guilt, and grief of his own, and Dean's heart loosened a tiny bit. "Look, I'm dealing, okay?" he said softly and without malice. "But like you said," he looked back towards the kids, who were clapping and laughing as Bobby touched ground and rolled his chair towards them, "I've got others to think about now."

Grandpa Bobby was all smiles as he wheeled himself over to the picnic table with two giggling four-year-olds on his lap. Both Winchesters couldn't help but crack a smile at the usually grumpy mechanic as he popped a wheelie and hooted with glee at the excited cheers he got from the twins who wrapped their arms around his neck to hang on tighter.

The food was brought out and the kids ate quite cheerily after being assured that Cas was fine sleeping in the van and that Mommy had stayed at the factory to help clean up the mess from the fire. Dean knew it was a lie that would catch up with him eventually but for today, at least, his kids had suffered enough.

Sam left in the Impala to buy two car seats, leaving Dean to catch Bobby up on all that had happened in the past couple of hours while the children played in the jungle gym by the picnic table.

Bobby listened with a grave expression, the only exception being when Dean divulged the full names of the 'little darlins'. Bobby seemed to be taking his role as Grandpa to heart and was clearly touched by the fact that the kids were Singers, even if in name only. He expressed his condolences sincerely to Dean about Tasha but didn't linger on the subject, instead tactfully keeping the overwhelmed hunter's focus on what to do next.

Since they still didn't know any particulars about the exact role Dean's child was to play in the apocalyptic events, or even which child it was, and they still had no clues to the whereabouts of the Colt, it was decided their only option was to run. Run and hide. It went against Dean's very nature – he was a stand and fight 'til the end sort of guy – but everything had changed the instant those kids had come running down Bobby's stairs.

Bobby pointed out that he would only slow the brothers down given his current lack of mobility and insisted they head off without him. Dean was worried about the safety of his old friend if he went back to Singer Auto Salvage, since that was where the ambush was seemingly planned upon the family's return to the present. His worry was enough he actually told Bobby out loud that he just couldn't take losing another person right now.

Bobby acknowledged the difficult display of sentiment by promising to stay clear of his place until the demons realized the Winchesters weren't there and weren't coming back and swore he would step-up the demon-proofing measures he had in place around his house.

Dean nodded, relieved. "Okay," he agreed. "But be careful. I just don't need you losing the use of any more body parts on my account, Bobby."

His old friend frowned at him. "You're not blaming yourself for me bein' in this rig, are you?" he questioned, tapping the arms of his wheelchair.

Dean shrugged as if to say 'duuh'. "You stabbed yourself to save me," he pointed out.

"Boy, I oughta smack you. I'm in this mess 'cause I got sloppy. I took off my anti-possession charm to take a bath. Now if that ain't the dumbest thing I ever did, I don't know what is. So quit kickin' yerself and start seein' what the rest of us see in you." He gave Dean a long, hard look. "A helluva son, a helluva brother, a helluva friend, and now … a helluva father."

Dean didn't know what to say so he took an uncomfortable bite of his burger before finally replying. "You're not gonna wheel around here and kiss me, are you?" he teased, effectively ending the awkward moment.

"The lady next door says Cas kisses whores," came Cassie's voice a few small steps behind Dean.

The hunter turned around with a grin. "Wow, you snuck right up on me there," he said, hoping she hadn't been listening long.

"We play hunters in the yard with Mommy and Gunter," Cassie smiled, climbing onto Dean's lap, completely unaware of the rush of emotions her simple act was sending through the new father. "Mommy says I'm gonna be as good as you."

"As good at what?" Bobby blurted, the troubled creases in his forehead drawing down the rim of his trucker's cap.

Dean realized the older hunter was clearly wondering the same as he was; just how much had Tasha divulged to the kids about hunting and monsters and the supernatural? He knew Tasha's parents had been pretty open with her about vampires and such from a young age but had somehow still managed to give her a happy childhood. He hoped for the children's sakes she hadn't decided to go the same route with their kids for that same honesty hadn't worked out so well for him and Sam. Even if she couldn't see it, Dean had assessed that Tasha hadn't been as happy after her parents had both been killed and despite their good intentions, being raised with dark secrets and taught to keep to herself had ended up giving her nothing but years of loneliness and an inability to form attachments.

"Good at being sneaky, silly," Cassie answered Bobby's question. "You have to be sneaky to get away from the monsters."

"Monsters?" Dean choked, looking down at the blonde girl in his lap and feeling a renewed pang of regret that he hadn't been there to parent them until now.

Cassie giggled. "Don't you know about monsters, Daddy?"

Bobby's face was in a full-on scowl. "Why don't you tell us what you know about monsters, Cassie?" he asked with false cheer.

Dean wanted to defend Tasha, to erase the disapproving look on the older man's face, but was too disappointed in the possibility that his kids may have lost any chance at normal even before their mother had blown herself up to save them from demons.

Sammy slid down the child's slide one last time before coming over to join them, sitting himself quietly on the end of the bench next to Dean and Cassie.

"You saved Uncle Sam from the Rawheads, 'member?" Cassie giggled, twisting around to face her father. Dean remembered Tasha mentioning that was their favorite bedtime story.

"But what is a Rawhead?" Bobby pressed.

Sammy giggled. "Rawheads tickle you so hard your hair falls off," he chimed in. "And you blast them with a phaser gun like Captain Kirk so they runs away."

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief. Maybe Tasha hadn't told them everything after all.

"Nu-uhh," Cassie argued with her brother. "You gotta poke 'em with a cow stick."

"A phaser," Sammy insisted.

"Cow stick."

"Phaser."

"Cow stick."

"Phaser."

"Whoa, whoa," Dean interceded with an amused snort, effectively ending the argument. "It's a Taser, which is a lot like Captain Kirk's phaser gun and a lot like a cattle prod, or cow stick. So you're both right. What other monsters did Mommy tell you about?"

"Demons," Sammy offered.

"What about them?" Dean pressed.

"Cas says they can't find us 'cause he hided us." Cassie gave her dad a long look. "Cas is an angel, you know," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I know," Dean nodded, wondering what 'the lady next door' had thought when his kids had blurted that one out to her, which they surely had for even Dean knew kids can't keep secrets.

"Mommy said we have to keep our nicklisses on to make sure demons can't turn our eyes black," Cassie continued, tugging at something around her neck to reveal an anti-possession charm on the end of a leather thong.

"And if you see one you hafta put salt around your house," Sammy added.

"And if you throw church water at them, they runs away."

"Demons make your eyes go black and can make you do funny things," Sammy said.

Cassie laughed. "Like dance around like a monkey!"

"Or squish ice cream all over your face!" Sammy joined in.

"Or put your trousers on backwards like Gunter!"

Both kids were now laughing again and Dean let out a sigh of relief. He shouldn't have doubted Tasha. She had made fun stories and games out of monsters, teaching the kids how to defeat them without actually letting on that they were evil and deadly and the world with them in it was definitely not a fun place.

Sam pulled up a few minutes later and gave Dean and Bobby a 'mission accomplished' nod. They decided it would be best to head out immediately and hopefully make it a couple of states over before stopping at a motel. They would leave Cas in the back of Bobby's van until he woke up. He could give them a call when he was lucid and catch up with them then. After a moment of futile resistance by Cassie at having to sit in the car seat, the hunters left the peace and relative calm of the park, parting ways with Bobby when they hit the highway and headed east towards Iowa.

They made as good time as they could stopping every two hours for pee breaks and pulling in at a diner just outside Mason City for a 'quick' bite to eat.

Sammy wouldn't eat his potatoes or peas and although he wasn't overly vocal about it, he was certainly stoic in his refusal. After asking the thirty-something waitress if she was a MILF, Cassie announced she had to go to the little girl's room but there was absolutely no way she would go into the men's and even less chance she would go into either of them without Daddy in tow. Having no idea what the proper etiquette was, in the end Sam kept a look-out in the hall outside the door, snickering to himself while Dean went into the ladies room with the stubborn little blonde.

The children finally fell asleep in the car after a torturously long game of 'I Spy' in which the same four things were picked over and over. Trees, Uncle Sam's shirt, Sammy's Tonka truck, the army man in the ashtray of Cassie's door handle. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

They checked into a motel with a twenty-four hour desk well after midnight, each brother carrying a sleeping four-year old into the room. They put them both in one of the queen sized beds and Dean lay down next to them, on top of the covers as usual though without his .45 under his pillow. Sam took the other bed, Ruby's knife under his. Cassie woke up briefly and asked quietly where Mommy was.

"She's still helping out at the factory, sweetheart," Dean told her softly, trying not to let his voice waver at the thought of the brunette. "Daddy's here. Go back to sleep."

She did so without argument, turning over and snuggling back into her brother. Dean turned the lamp off and lay in the dark, his thoughts heavy as he listened to their peaceful breathing. How was he ever going to manage? He didn't know the first thing about being a father. Especially trying to be a father while keeping his kids safe from angels and demons and every other thing that goes bump that may have a personal grudge against him. How could he possibly do this without Tash? The kids needed a mother. He swallowed, remembering his own dad's gruff greetings and stern warnings as he headed out for yet another hunt, leaving his young sons in yet another seedy motel room. _He_   had needed a mother.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

It was dusk wherever – or _whenever_ – they popped out. Tasha steadied herself on her feet, turning to make sure Cas was there. Traveling through time was far worse than just popping across a few state lines in angel mode and she swallowed her way through a bout of nausea. Cas was still next to her but, as she glanced around to see they were in what appeared to be a city park, the angel slumped to the ground at her feet.

"Cas?" she knelt down and shook his shoulder. "Hey Cas; you okay?"

His blue eyes met hers for a brief second before rolling up in his head, a trickle of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, shit." She dragged him over to a nearby park bench and struggled to heave him onto it, leaving him sprawled out and looking a lot like a passed out drunk while she scoped out some nearby parked cars. She found one unlocked and made quick work of the wires under the dash. These older models were so easy … only it wasn't an older model … well, it was an older model, she realized, but it wasn't old. There was a newspaper on the passenger seat and she picked it up, her eyes scanning for the date at the top.

_April 24th, 1967_

_Holy shit_. The reality of what just happened struck home. She was over forty years in the past. Almost twenty years before she was even born.

She ignored the nerves gnawing at her insides and walked steadily back over to Cas. It wasn't easy, but she managed to heave, drag and coax him into the back seat of the hotwired car and drove away quickly, not stopping until she was out of the city, which turned out to be Pittsburgh. She pulled over in a quiet rest area off the rural road and killed the engine, leaning back in her seat with a sigh and wondering how long Cas would be out.

Her hand moved to her stomach, rubbing gently as she tried to wrap her head around the idea that there was going to be a tiny human growing in there. Two weeks ago she didn't even think she could have kids so to say this was a shock would be an understatement. In hindsight, she should have figured out she had been healed on the inside also, but children were just never something that crossed her mind so she hadn't given it much thought. The very notion terrified her. She definitely wasn't mother material. She hunted monsters, she swore like a sailor, she lived off gambling and fraud, and she'd never experienced anything even close to a normal life.

At least it was Dean's.

She glanced in the rear view mirror at Cas. Speaking of credit card fraud, that wasn't going to be an option in 1967. She hoped he could pull cash out of his ass or use his Star Trek thingy to rob a bank vault because being pregnant and trying to hustle pool in a bar didn't seem a great combination, at least once she started showing. "Oh fuck," she breathed, rolling her eyes at the image of walking around with a giant belly.

At least it was Dean's.

Somehow that made it alright. She just couldn't see this as a bad thing no matter what impact it had or what chaos this was sending her life into. She missed the green-eyed hunter already. He wasn't even alive yet in this time. His kid was going to be born before him. This was fucked up.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_Present…_ **

The kids were wide awake at five o'clock in the morning. That's before friggin' earlybird Sam even got up, Dean grumbled to himself, not having slept at all. Two cheery voices immediately started asking about breakfast and again, Dean had to curse himself for not planning ahead. He dragged himself to his feet and decided to go across the street to the diner to get some chow. After the fiasco that was supper at the diner yesterday, he figured it would be safer to have the kids eat in the motel room.

He told the twins to jump on Uncle Sam until he got back and cracked a smile as they took his instructions quite literally and started jumping up and down on the second bed, giggling and laughing when Sam's hand shot over his groin to avoid being stomped on.

When Dean got back to the room, he was greeted with the sight of Sam crawling on his hands and knees with both twins sitting straddled on his back yelling "Giddy-up!"

"Okay, cowboys," he chortled. "Rustle up, grub's here." He grinned down at his brother. "You too, Trigger."

Despite the cheery start, breakfast did not go smoothly. Both kids refused to eat this time and the tears quickly started flowing followed by sobbing for Mommy. Dean buried his head in his hands, frustrated and feeling overwhelmed, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing.

It was Cas, asking where they were. The hunter gave him the name of the motel and the number on the door and thirty seconds later, the angel was standing in the middle of the room, his legs coated with mud up to his knees.

Dean gave him a questioning look as the kids greeted the newcomer excitedly. "Been bikini mud wrestling Cas? Now what would the lady next door say?"

Cas gave the brothers a sheepish look. "I have still not regained all my strength. I fell short of the mark and landed in a muddy field outside of town." He stepped forward towards the table and frowned at the kids when he saw the mess and the untouched plates.

Dean noticed the disapproval. "Yeah," he rolled his eyes. "We're trying to have breakfast but they're not exactly cooperating."

Cas reached forward and picked up a plastic knife. "Sammy likes his French toast cut in strips," he said matter-of-factly, "And Cassie won't eat it with syrup." He switched the plates in front of the kids and quickly sliced Sammy's into four strips before standing back and turning towards the brothers. "What is the plan?" he asked with his usual serious expression.

Dean felt another pang of resentment as the kids immediately fell silent and dug into their food. It wasn't fair that Cas would know so much about them when he knew nothing.

"We're just gonna lay low and run," Sam answered the angel's question. "That's all the plan we have right now."

Cas nodded. "Until we find a way to stop Lucifer, I believe you're right. You mustn't under any circumstances take the children back to Bobby's house."

"You coming with us?" Sam asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. He had quickly come to realize Dean's kids were a handful and until their father figured out their habits, things were ... chaotic to say the least. Maybe Cas could help things run more smoothly in the transition period.

Cas simply nodded again and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking tired. The humans finished up breakfast quickly and the group left town, the angel sitting quietly and rather uncomfortably between the two car seats in the back of the Impala.

After a much more successful lunch of drive-thru food, both children fell fast asleep in their seats, the classic car continuing to chew up tarmac between yesterday's run-in with the demons and safety.

Nothing was said for a long time, a heavy, almost uncomfortable blanket of silence surrounding the three men who were each lost in their own thoughts. Given that he could sit and meditate or contemplate for weeks on end, it was surprising that it was Cas who spoke first.

"You have not told the children their mother is dead," he blurted, not phrasing it as a question.

Dean's heart lurched at the blunt words spoken out loud, the grief and shock still painfully fresh. He caught the angel's eye in the rear view mirror. "Uh, no," he said with an incredulous tone. "I think they've been through enough for a few days, don't you?"

Cas furrowed his brow, obviously contemplating the issue. "I suppose you're right," he deadpanned.

Dean was bothered by the angel's apparent lack of emotion. He gritted his teeth before glancing back in the mirror. "You knew she was gonna do what she did, didn't you?" he ground out.

Cas's blue eyes stared back at him, unblinking. "Yes," he said simply.

The hunter struggled to rein in his anger at the admission. "Why didn't you try to stop her?" he demanded, remembering how Tasha had told Cas to shield the kids and the bastard had simply nodded. "You pretty much told her to go ahead!"

"She did what was necessary," Cas said evenly.

"We would have found another way!" Dean argued.

"There was no other way. Tasha understood this. It was unfortunate but the children are alive because if her actions."

Dean shook his head in disbelief, his fingers curling tightly around the Impala's steering wheel. _"Unfortunate?"_   he seethed. "You cold-hearted dick! Look, Cas, I realize to angels this is just a numbers game and you don't necessarily care about losing one measly human; that Tasha may have been acceptable collateral damage to you but she was more than some pawn in your war. She had people who needed her and cared about her. It's more than _unfortunate!"_

Cas's face darkened and his voice deepened. "Must I remind you that I have known Tasha for five years; that I have spent far more time with her than you ever did, Dean," he said sternly. "She was my friend, my _only_   friend for a long time. When that tank exploded, I _felt_   her soul being ripped from her body. I _felt_   my friend's life end. So you don't get to tell me that I don't care."

Dean swallowed, realizing he may have misjudged the angel's lack of sentiment. Cas may not always show it, but he was far from unfeeling. After all, he had gone against his entire family to help Dean, to help humans, to do what was right. Besides, it wasn't like Dean could claim to be a pro at expressing his own emotions.

"Sorry," the hunter mumbled, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Sam at the uncharacteristic apology.

"I can't help Tasha now," Cas continued, the hard edge to his voice softening. "She's gone. But I can still do my best to help you protect your children." He caught Dean's eye in the mirror again. "She was not my only friend," he added pointedly, clearly referring to the brothers.

Dean just nodded solemnly, extremely thankful to have the angel on their side but unable to say those words out loud. Just a little too emo for his comfort.

"Thanks, Cas," Sam said quietly and the three drifted back into silence.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if you were paying attention (and are as pathetically obsessed with the show as I am, lol), you will have recognized the date that Cas and Tasha landed - April 24, 1967. Yup, that's the Impala's birthday! :) If you're REALLY keen, you might even figure out the relationship the 'lady next door' has with the Impala (over the next couple of flashbacks) (hint, watch for the name of her son) :)


	6. From Bad to Worse

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

The next two days passed fairly smoothly, at least on a Winchester scale of smooth. Nobody else died or got maimed and no more Apocalypses were set in motion and these days, that counted as smooth sailing.

Cas flitted in and out, spending some time with the brothers and the kids and the rest off searching for intel and for God. He was getting much better at the cell phone thing to track them down when needed, though Sam did have to show him how to lock the keys so he and Dean could sleep through the night without the angel's butt-dials waking them up every hour.

He also proved to be a perfect babysitter when the brothers needed to conduct some hunting-related business, such as going out to meet with a local hunter in search of intel. Dean wouldn't have trusted to leave his kids with anyone else but over the past couple of days, he had come to realize Cas held a genuine fondness for the twins that ran far deeper than their importance in the impending apocalypse and even though he kinda looked like a wimpy nerd, the guy could kick some serious demon ass. Besides, the kids were _always_   up for a game of 'Marco Polo' angel-style. Cas would vanish and reappear in various spots around the room answering a solemn 'Polo' to their excited calls of 'Marco!'. They could keep it up for hours.

Mealtimes were also running much smoother and Little Sammy was becoming more comfortable and talkative with his father and uncle. He was still a quiet kid, at least in comparison to his chatty sister, but he had taken to shadowing the brothers, sitting down when they did, ordering whatever they did from the drive-thrus, and jumping up to follow whenever either of them got up to leave the motel room.

On the third night, the kids insisted they get a bedtime story so Dean, lacking any proper children's reading material, ended up reading them an article about Sadie Stiletto, who was studying to be a biologist and enjoyed long walks on the beach, playing the harp, and cowboys. Both twins drifted off mid-story and ended up snuggling in to him for the night, one on each side rather than their previous habit curling up together.

Not long past dawn, Dean awoke to find Little Sammy sitting straight up, rubbing his big doe-eyes and blinking down at the hunter. "What's up, Little Buddy?" he asked softly, not wanting to wake the others.

"Daddy?" the boy asked quietly, "Can you come live with me and Mommy and Cassie?"

Dean's heart melted and twisted in a knot at the same time. "I'm not going anywhere," he answered carefully. "Ever. In fact, you and me and Cassie and Uncle Sam are gonna be together for a long time." He wasn't ready to stop being evasive about Mommy not coming back.

His son's face lit up in a smile before he fell forward and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. "I wuv you, Daddy."

Dean swallowed, never having imagined those words could sound so wonderful and so terrifying at the same time. He hugged the boy back. 'I love you too, Sammy," he whispered.

The moment was over two seconds later when a soft knock sounded at the door. Dean dragged himself out of bed quickly, slipping his .45 into the back of his pants as surreptitiously as he could without Sammy seeing and stepped up to the door to peer out the peephole.

As he had suspected, it was Cas. The angel had taken up the habit of popping up _outside_   the door when they weren't expecting him instead of in the room. Apparently, this was a rule Tasha had established after an awkward moment of which a blushing Cas had refused to divulge any details. As Dean opened the door, Cassie woke up and greeted her father and Cas with a very loud "good morning!", which in turn woke Sam up.

Within five minutes the younger of the grown Winchesters was in the shower and the kids were playing on the floor, trying to fit Cassie's Barbie doll into the driver's seat of the Grave Digger monster truck that Dean had bought for his son. He'd caught the boy drooling over it in the store and hadn't been able to resist despite the fact that it took up a lot of valuable trunk space in the Impala.

Cas informed Dean that demons were combing the country looking for the Winchesters and that they were somehow aware there were two additions to the family to choose from. The only good news was that neither side seemed to know yet whether Sam or Dean was the father so the standing order from both Heaven and Hell was still to capture, not kill.

Dean sat on the bottom of the bed and listened, his elbows resting on his knees and his shoulders slumped heavily under the ever-increasing weight of responsibility. Cas was sitting a little stiffly in the cheap motel chair a few feet away.

"The children seem to be adjusting well," the angel observed after a pause, nodding slowly in approval.

Dean just nodded back. They still asked about their mother and had their moments of sadness but overall they were such loveable, brave kids his heart wanted to explode with pride every time he looked at them.

"How about you?" Cas turned the question on him.

"Say what?"

"How are you doing, Dean?"

The hunter just let out a deep sigh and rubbed his hand down over his face. "Kinda overwhelmed," he admitted honestly. "And terrified. What if I can't protect them, Cas?"

Cas remained silent, prompting Dean to keep going. "And I miss Tash, you know. I only saw her once in more than a year and I still miss her."

The angel nodded, seeming to understand. Dean was surprised at how in recent times, the angel's lack of judgmental attitude and attentive silence made it almost easy to overshare. "I mean, I screwed up everything last year," he continued. "Everything. I failed. I was supposed to keep Lucifer from rising so she was never part of this but I wasn't strong enough to stop Sam. And I'm one hundred percent to blame for that. I can't help but think I could have done better." He hung his head, lowering his voice even further. "If she'd been with me, I'da done better," he told Cas. "She … she believed in me. She made me stronger, you know?"

"If she had been with you, she would have died," Cas pointed out. "That much of what my superiors told me at the time was true."

The hunter let out a short burst of laughter that sounded embarrassingly like a sob. "Well she died anyway, didn't she?" he fired back, his sharp tone not really aimed at Cas but at the situation in general.

"Yes, but not without purpose," Cas replied. "This way she left you something." He turned to look at the twins on the floor who were giggling as the monster truck was pushed repeatedly over Uncle Sam's jacket, leaving dirty tire tracks down the back. "They are remarkable young humans."

A painful swallow made its way past Dean's throat. "Yeah," he rasped. "But that was all her doing. I mean, look at them, Cas. They're so brave and smart. Cassie, she's fearless…" A smile spread over the proud father's face. "She says whatever she's thinking and doesn't back down and Sammy, he's just the sweetest little dude..." His smile slowly faded. "I can't take any of the credit for that. That was all Tash. She raised them. She made them who they are. I only just met them."

"Their strength is something they inherited from both parents, Dean," Cas disagreed.

"No. All they got from me was a crappy hand in life. A big suck-ass destiny to fulfill that includes angels and demons and let's not forget Lucifer himself hunting them down with really fucking bad intentions all round."

The angel opened his mouth as if to argue further but stopped, breathing out a long sigh instead. The two men remained silent for a long moment, watching the kids when Cassie suddenly gasped, reached into her uncle's jacket pocket, and pulled out a McDonalds apple pie.

"Pie!" she exclaimed triumphantly, immediately raising her hand in the air as her brother lunged for the prize, both squealing with excitement.

Cas cracked what could actually qualify as a full-on smile as he caught Dean's eye. "No, they get many other things from you."

Dean grinned. Maybe Cas was a little right.

Sam emerged from the bathroom to find the pie split in two and being crumbled and drooled all over his jacket while his brother and friend sat back and watched. "Dude!" he chastised Dean, tugging his coat out from under the kids and brushing it off.

"Sorry man," Dean chuckled unapologetically. "It's your turn to go get breakfast and you were taking one of your hour-long girly showers. I couldn't just let them go hungry now, could I?"

Sam just rolled his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair in an attempt to dry it off enough to go out. "Alright," he said, putting the jacket on. "I'll head down to that truck stop at the corner and get some breakfast. Be back in a few."

"Me too!" Little Sammy cried, jumping up and running over to the taller Winchester. "Me too?"

Sam looked down at the little dark-haired boy with his arms wrapped around his leg blinking hopefully up at him. "You wanna come with Uncle Sam?" he grinned.

"Yes!"

Sam chuckled, his sticky jacket forgotten as he grabbed his nephew's coat and helped him into the sleeves before the two of them stepped out over the salt line at the door.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_May 15th, 1967_ **

Castiel popped back from Greece into the small kitchen of the house in the suburbs of Philadelphia, immediately looking around for Natasha. He walked briskly into the adjacent living room, grudgingly wishing cell phones had been invented a few decades earlier. Despite their tendency to beep annoyingly and malfunction on him, they had proven useful when he and Dean had been working together. Having marked the girl's ribs, he couldn't just sense where she was which made watching out for her much harder. Of course, it would help if she were more cooperative and would just stay put, but in the three weeks they had been in 1967, she had proven to be even more stubborn than Dean Winchester.

Upon arrival in this time, Cas had quickly found the elderly widow of a hunter who had no family left and revealed himself to her as an angel. He had told her he needed her help and she had quickly agreed to allow Natasha to live with her until the baby was born. He now found her sitting knitting in her living room.

"Dorothy," he greeted her.

"Oh, Castiel!" She gave him a surprised smile. "I'm making a sleeper for the baby," she said, holding the partially-knitted garment up for him to see.

"Is Natasha here?" Cas asked politely.

"Uh, no," Dorothy replied. "I'm afraid she's gone out."

"Where?" He could just picture the brunette getting annoyed at his 'dictator' attitude but he had been gone a few days and needed to check she was still safe. He took the responsibility of protecting Dean's unborn child very seriously and wished Natasha would demonstrate the same mind-set.

Dorothy looked nervous. "I tried to tell her it was foolish," she said hesitantly.

Cas groaned. "Where has she gone?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Lawrence, Kansas."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_Present…_ **

"I need to pee!" the little brown-haired boy said suddenly, crossing his legs, bobbing up and down and tugging at his uncle's hand.

"Oh, uhh…" Sam looked up apologetically at the cute waitress smiling at him from behind the take-out counter. The restaurant was quiet this early and she had been chatting to the hunter while he waited for his food, not-so-subtly fishing to find out if there was a Mommy in the picture. Sam hadn't corrected her mistaken assumption that he was Sammy's father and had led her to believe there was very definitely a mother waiting for them at home. Not that the blonde wasn't attractive, but the memory of his last bedmate, Ruby, royally screwing him over (and not in the good way) was still far too fresh. Besides, with two kids, a brother, and an angel all in the motel room, there really wasn't any point in wasting the pretty girl's time. "Um, I have to…" he excused himself, gesturing towards the truck stop restaurant washrooms.

"Oh, sure," she smiled. "I'll keep your order warm for you if it comes up. Take your time."

He led his squirming nephew through the tables to the hallway at the back where the washrooms were located. Sammy barely made it to the toilet in time but was done in about seven seconds flat. Washing his hands, however, proved to be a much lengthier affair. Sam held him up at the counter while he pumped squirt after squirt of soap into his tiny hand from the soap dispenser, a novelty they apparently didn't have in the seventies.

They finally made it back out to the hallway only to bump into a burly trucker heading towards the washroom.

"Sorry, man," Sam said absently, turning sideways to allow the man to pass by.

But the man didn't go past. With inhuman speed, he shot his arm forward and wrapped a hand around the tall hunter's throat, lifting almost effortlessly and tossing him backwards down the hallway. Sam landed against the metal back door of the building with a hard thud but before he could cry out, the door opened and two more men stepped in. One punched him in the face and the other bent down and clamped a hand over his mouth while they dragged him outside to the quiet service area at the back of the building.

Sam flailed wildly at his attackers, trying desperately to both break free and catch a glimpse of his nephew. He managed to fight his way loose a second after the door slammed shut, cutting him off from Sammy.

"Sammy!" he yelled in a near panic. "Sammy, run! RUN!"

He was rewarded with another hard punch in the face and grunted as he rolled away from the burly trucker who had delivered it. He made it to his feet just in time to see the man's eyes turn inky black.

 _Shit. Demons_. _How had they found them?_ He hoped like Hell Little Sammy had heard him and was running right back to the motel, or at least back inside to warn the waitress. The police were a far better option than the three demons circling him now.

He reached around behind him and pulled Ruby's demon-killing knife out of his pants hemline.

"Sam Winchester," one of the demons said mockingly.

With his nephew still inside vulnerable and alone, he didn't have time to spare listening to demon-taunting so he simply lunged at the one in front, catching him off guard. The knife sank into the possessed meatsuit's barrel chest and the demon screamed his way through his fiery demise.

Sam yanked the blade back out and went for the next one. His swing was dodged and he took a hard blow to the face that knocked him down on the ground again. It took all the focus he could muster to keep a hold of the knife as the pain of a boot connecting with his stomach winded him. Two more kicks landed before he was able to bring his hand up and stab his attacker in the leg. It hurt the demon, who cried out loudly, but it didn't kill him.

Sam used the brief respite to shove himself backwards and push his way to his feet. He was barely steady before he lunged again, this time planting the knife into the same demon's neck. Blood spurted from the wound onto Sam's shirt and the enticing smell hit the recovering addict like a tidal wave. He wasn't given time to even consider the option, however, because the third demon attacked before the second one had even slumped to the ground.

The hunter fought hard, fear and worry for his nephew fueling his efforts, but the burly demon was strong and fast. Sam was kicked, punched, thrown to the ground, and slammed into the building wall more than once before he finally managed to stab the bastard in the gut.

His victory was short-lived, however, because three more demons showed up from around the back corner of the building, their eyes all black as they fanned out around him. He knew he had no chance of beating them all but that reality barely even registered when a fourth demon appeared behind them.

It was the cute, blonde waitress, her once-blue eyes now as black as night. At her side was Sammy, his brown eyes wide with fear as the waitress tugged him roughly forward by the wrist.

Sam's heart lurched and breathing became near impossible for what felt like the longest second of the young hunter's life. "No," he choked. "No. Let him go!"

The waitress smirked. "Are you kidding?" she gloated, tightening her grip on the little boy's arm. "Our Father's been dying to meet this little one. And nabbing you at the same time, Sam, is just icing on the cake."

"You don't have me yet," Sam growled, lunging at the closest demon. He came close but the knife didn't hit its mark. As he recoiled, he was struck and once again hit the ground. The three demons sprang on him, kicking and hitting him repeatedly. He fought back with everything he had, the sound of the little boy's quiet, terrified sobbing driving him on but he just couldn't hold out against their superior strength.

He knew he had a few cracked ribs and could barely see past the blood trickling down his face but he kept fighting. Every inch of him hurt like a son of a bitch but he kept fighting. Ruby's knife was knocked from his hand leaving him weaponless but still, he kept fighting. As he staggered to his feet for the umpteenth time, swaying and breathing shallow, ragged breaths, the blonde waitress started laughing.

"Wow, you just don't quit, do you?" she cooed. "Stop all this fuss, Sam. We're not going to harm your son. In fact, we'll protect him from the angels better than you and that degenerate brother of yours ever could. He'll be rewarded greatly for his help once Lucifer takes over."

"Let him go," Sam ground out, spitting out a mouthful of his own blood as he struggled to stay upright.

"Not gonna happen," she replied smugly. "So why don't you just agree to come quietly?"

"Never," Sam spat, determined. He had failed Dean on so many levels; he was not going to fail Dean's son also. Not even if it killed him.

The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. 'Suit yourself," she shrugged, looking to the three other demons. "You know what to do," she said simply and they all tackled the hunter immediately.

Sam's vision went fuzzy when he hit the ground, his hearing following not far behind. His head was slammed repeatedly onto the compacted gravel beneath him and as a sudden, searing pain shot through his chest, he could barely make out the woman's voice barking orders.

"Take this little brat to Lucifer," it said. "I'll go get the other one."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	7. A Rock and a Hard Place

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Cas had zapped away somewhere and Dean was helping Cassie get her socks on when there was a knock on the door. He made out his brother's voice on the other side. "Dean," it said quietly. "Ts'me."

Figuring Sam must have his hands full with the breakfast take-out, Dean handed his daughter her shoes and stepped towards the door. "Took you long enough, dude," he said, yanking it open.

Sam was standing there but there was a line of blood trickling down the side of his face. He teetered and before Dean could react, slumped to the ground just outside the door. "Sam!" Dean dropped to one knee, pulling his brother's shoulder towards him to turn him over and see his face while at the same time scanning the surrounding area for signs of a threat. "Sam, where's Sammy?"

Sam's eyes looked glazed and he let out a whimper. "Dean," he rasped. "Dean they got him."

Dean's heart stopped. "What! Who?" he breathed, knowing already who it was since his son was nowhere to be seen. He moved to stand up but his brother grabbed his sleeve, tugging him back down.

"Demons," Sam informed him. "Oh God, Dean, I tried to stop them but they took off in a car; they're long gone."

The elder Winchester fought to clear his brain, to think logically of what his next move should be. He decided to help his injured brother, who was still lying on the ground bleeding and attracting attention. He needed to get him into the room to get whatever information out of him that he could to figure out how to help his son. He gripped Sam by the jacket and dragged the large man inside over the salted threshold and kicked the door shut behind them.

"Dude, you okay?" he said urgently, brushing Sam's bangs back to get a look at the head wound.

"I will be," Sam assured him, sounding better already and sitting up to pull his feet under him.

"I'm calling Cas," Dean said, near panic, yanking out his phone.

"Daddy?" came Cassie's voice from where she was still sitting on the edge of the bed. "Daddy what's wrong with Uncle Sam?"

Dean saw Sam's shoulders stiffen. "He's okay, Cassie," he answered his daughter but his mind was taking in the frown now appearing on Sam's face as the injured hunter straightened up slowly.

"Uncle Sam?" Sam said, his voice suddenly cold and threatening as he turned to face Dean.

The hairs on the back of Dean's neck bristled and he knew right away this wasn't his brother.

" _You're_   the children's father?" Sam practically spat.

"You're not Sam," Dean stated the obvious. Damnit, he had broken the salt line himself with his feet as he dragged the bastard inside. "You're possessed."

"No shit," the demon snapped, lashing out and knocking Dean to the ground with his fist before the hunter could make a break for the weapons duffel. Dean's phone skidded across the floor, the light on the display going out before connection had been made. "Well this is unfortunate news," Sam hissed, stepping forward towards the fallen hunter and planting a kick in his gut. "Lucifer will not be pleased."

"Where's my son?" Dean rasped, winded and rolling away.

The demon laughed an unpleasant, humorless laugh, shaking Sam's head in disgust. "Huh. _Your_ son. I should have figured this giant waste of space was lying." He lunged at Dean again, barely flinching at the punch the hunter landed on his jaw before delivering one back and knocking him to the floor again. "I suppose this makes it easier for me," he continued, turning his head to glance at the terrified little girl on the bed and pulling Ruby's knife out of the back of his pants. "At least I don't have to keep the brat alive."

"No!" Dean felt the panic inside intensifying even further. "Cassie, run!" he yelled, forcing himself to his feet again. "Run outside! Go! Now!"

With that he charged at his possessed brother, barreling into him and knocking him off his feet. They crashed into the table and toppled it over as they rolled on the floor, kicking and punching. Dean knew he was losing but all he was hoping for at this point was to keep the demon busy long enough to let Cassie get away. He dodged and narrowly escaped being stabbed as Ruby's knife was driven into the floor right next to his head, Sam's black eyes staring down at him with pure hatred. The follow-up punch had him seeing stars and he fought to remain lucid as he tried to grab the knife. He didn't know if he would be able to use it on his brother but he did know he desperately needed an advantage if he was to have any chance of saving his daughter. He hadn't heard the door open yet so he knew she was still in the room somewhere but he just couldn't spare the attention to look.

He didn't have to, however, for Sam suddenly growled and winced in pain from his position on top of Dean. He spun around with a snarl and Dean noticed specks of white falling on him from the demon's shirt. He cranked his head to see Cassie standing behind her uncle, one tiny, empty fist outstretched towards them and a trail of salt on the floor from the bag they had left by the door.

"Cassie run!" he yelled again, trying in vain to keep Sam from getting to his feet. "Outside!" _Jesus, what kind of four-year-old tries to take on a demon?_ "Just run!"

The wide-eyed girl screamed when Sam stood up to his full height and she turned and fled but not towards the door. Instead she darted to the closest bed and scrambled underneath it. As Sam got on his knees to reach under and haul her back out, Ruby's knife still clasped in his hand, Dean made it to his feet also and jumped on him.

Fear and adrenaline enabled him to wrestle the super-strong demon away from the bed but his upper hand was short-lived. Sam was soon on top of him raining blows down on his barely shielded face and gut, the knife tossed somewhere out of Dean's reach. His mind flashed to a very similar memory the last time Sam had been possessed, when Meg had decided to forsake her emotional toying of trying to get Dean to kill Sam and had decided to just finish him off herself. That time Bobby had saved him but this time Bobby wasn't here. Dean knew he was as good as dead this time. After everything that had happened last year, he found it strangely _not_   surprising that it would be at his brother's hand.

His ears were ringing so hard from the hits that he barely heard the small voice in the room.

"Uncle Sam," it pleaded through sobs. "Please don't hurt my Daddy."

Sam's head turned and the blows stopped, Sam's hands fisting in the front of Dean's shirt. Dean glanced sideways to see Cassie's blonde head sticking out from under the bed, tears streaming down her face. Fear for her spiked once more but when he looked back to Sam, something struck him.

His brother's black eyes were hazel once more and the angry snarl on his face had been replaced by a look of fear and what appeared to be pain. Sam pushed back, giving Dean the room to get up from the floor.

"Sam?" Dean rasped as he scrambled out from under the larger hunter.

Sam nodded, the struggle to keep possession of his own body being played out on his face. He pointed towards the floor near the bottom of the bed.

Dean gave him a questioning look but moved instead towards Cassie.

"The knife," Sam said urgently, still pointing. "Use the knife."

Dean followed his brother's fingers to see Ruby's knife on the floor. He went for it instinctively, trying to avoid thinking about whether or not he would be able to use it.

"Do it quick," Sam panted, kneeling on the ground. "I can't hold her for long."

Dean looked back and forth between his brother and his terrified daughter, who was backing back under the bed. He could easily use the knife right now and ensure she stayed safe … only he couldn't do it.

"Quick!" Sam's fists were clenched and his face strained.

"No," he told his brother, running to the weapons duffel on the high shelf of the dresser. "You hang in there, Sam."

"I can't! Dean!"

"Yes, you can, Sam. I know you can."

"Dean…" Sam's whole body was shaking, muscles rippling and veins popping.

"I'm not gonna kill my brother!" By this time, Dean had the paint can and was spraying a circle on the carpet around Sam.

"She's … too strong."

Dean kept spraying. "Dude, what's with you and letting chick demons get up in you?" he joked, trying to keep Sam focused on him. His heart was thumping with fear that his brother couldn't hold the demon at bay but somehow, despite his recent utter disappointment in Sam, he found himself having faith that he would. He was laying his daughter's life on that faith. "We'll get that bitch out of you, don't worry. Just hang on."

Sam nodded and shuffled sideways to let Dean spray the final line of the trap. Dean stepped out of it and glanced around the room for his phone. He hit Castiel's speedial button and put the phone to his ear.

"Word is your angel's been cut off," Sam laughed, his eyes flashing black again. "Can't get it up anymore. He's serving boneless pork. Sch-winging with a miss. I mean, I'm not exactly bending over and bracing for impact here."

Dean swallowed, the realization his brother was gone again hitting him like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. It was frigging creepy. He heard a husky _'Yes Dean?'_   in his ear.

"Cas! Get your ass back here, pronto!"

"What's going on?" asked Cas from where he was now standing by the overturned table.

Dean started but recovered quickly. "They got Little Sammy," he blurted. "And they possessed Sam somehow and came after Cassie. I got him in a devil's trap but there's still a demon bitch inside him."

Cas took it all in, his eyes narrowing immediately at Sam. "Why don't you just exorcize her?" Cas asked.

"The demons think Sam's the father," Dean explained. "They've got Sammy and he's only safe as long as they keep thinking that. They think he's gonna help Lucifer. I can't take the chance this demon goes to Hell and blabs that I'm his father - wrong vessel and all." He rubbed his hand down over his face and stepped back over towards the bed to coax Cassie back out. "I need to kill the demon in Sam and you're the only way I can kill it without…" he held up the knife to demonstrate the option he didn't want to use.

"I think it's a little late for that, Winchester," the demon snorted. "The kid's what, four? How long do you think it'll be before he blabs who his daddy really is?"

Cas glowered at Sam before turning to face Dean. "Sammy will not talk," he assured him. "He will not say a word to strangers, no matter how long he is with them. He is as obstinate as his parents. If they believe he is Sam's, they will not question him and he will not offer."

Dean felt no resentment that Cas knew this certainty about his son when he hadn't; only appreciation for the stubborn Winchester and Montoya genes.

"They're taking him to Lucifer," Sam gloated. "Lucifer knows what anyone's thinking. One minute in the same zip code as the boy and he'll figure it out and snap his neck! Your son's as good as dead, Dean."

Dean's fists clenched in rage but the look he threw at Cas was of pure fear. Cas shook his head. "The markings I placed on his ribs will prevent that," the angel informed him. "No angel can sense Sammy; not even Lucifer. That includes reading his mind." He waited for Dean to nod his understanding before continuing. "We will need to question the demon to find out where Sammy is though," he added gravely.

Dean's breath hitched. He hadn't thought of that. Shit, he was going to have to torture a demon that was wearing Sam. He was going to have to torture his brother. Why did life keep dragging him in this big one-eighty that kept leading him right back to torturing?

"Take Cassie outside and I will get the information and kill the demon," Cas said quickly, letting Dean off the hook. His blue eyes held Dean's gaze for a long moment. "I was wrong the last time I asked you to do this, on Alistair, and I would spare you the unpleasant task this time," he added.

Dean surprised himself by not arguing and instead simply threw the angel a grateful look and knelt down by the bed. Cassie came out after only a moment of gentle coaxing and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly and burying her face in his neck as he moved towards the door. He turned back before opening it, however, glancing back and forth between his possessed brother and the stern-looking angel. "Cas…" he started to say.

"Sam will be fine," Cas cut him off. "I will not harm him."

Dean nodded and stepped outside, not turning around to see Cas stepping inside the devil's trap with Sam and pressing a hand to the taller man's face. He didn't see the golden light flare beneath Sam's skin and he closed the door just in time to suppress the sound of his brother screaming.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_May 15, 1967…_ **

Castiel was annoyed. No, he was aggravated, or maybe even what Dean would refer to as 'pissed off'. He knew why Natasha was coming to Kansas and he had strictly forbidden her to do this. As far as he was concerned, he had been very clear that this was not an advisable course of action when she had first suggested it and her abrupt reply of "fine then" had led him to believe she understood. He should have known better.

Dorothy had explained how Natasha had bumped into the son of the nosey, bible-thumping lady next door, a man by the name Sal Moriarty who had been visiting from his hometown of Topeka, Kansas. She had immediately convinced him to give her a ride down to nearby Lawrence when he went home and they had left together this morning.

Knowing that the human carrying the child who could possibly end up steering the fate of millions, _Dean's_  child, was traveling alone and unprotected across the country worried Cas. Angels may not be walking among humans in this decade but demons certainly were, as was the vampire Diego who had already come precariously close to killing her a few decades into the future. Because of the markings he himself had placed on her ribs, he was unable to find her en route so he had no choice but to go to Lawrence and try to intervene before she could contact Samuel or a teenage Mary Campbell.

He waited unseen outside the Campbell home for two days, growing more fearful with every passing hour she didn't show. John Winchester was currently fighting the human war in Vietnam so he had been certain she would visit the Campbells instead. He reminded himself that traveling by car was extremely slow but he still felt relief when he finally saw her approaching along the sidewalk, pausing in front of the house and taking a long, thoughtful look at it.

He popped himself into the space right in front of her, a disapproving frown on his face.

She jumped and her hand flew behind her, no doubt reaching for the knife she kept at the small of her back. He didn't flinch since it wasn't like it would do him any harm even if she did stab him but recognition crossed her face before the blade was drawn.

"Shit, Cas!" she hissed. "You almost gave me a fucking heart attack. What the Hell are you doing here?"

"I would ask you the same thing," he replied sternly, ignoring her liberal use of profanity.

Her back stiffened. "You know what I'm doing here," she fired back. "Now get out of my way."

Cas didn't move. Instead he grabbed her by the sleeve and walked her a few feet along the sidewalk until they were hidden from the house by a large hedge.

"You cannot change the past," he told her. "I have already told you this."

"No, you said our fate is predetermined," she argued. "And I say bull. You know it isn't or else you wouldn't have disobeyed and broken Dean out of angel custody."

"That doesn't mean you can change the past," he explained, his patience stretching thin at her impertinence. "Whatever you do, you have already done it. Why don't you understand?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Because if I had warned Samuel or Mary already, then Dean wouldn't have gone to Hell and his mom wouldn't have died and he wouldn't be so messed up right now."

"And you would not have met him and would not be carrying his child and would not be standing here now in 1967 looking to change what led you to be here in the first place," the angel countered.

Cas noticed the flicker of hesitation cross her face and pounced on it. "Even if you succeed, which you will not, then you would change your fate also. Do you honestly think you and Dean would have formed a bond had he not been a hunter? This will not change _your_   past. You will still be hunted by Diego and live as a hunter and your parents will still die but Dean may not be at your aunt's house when she is killed and you may never meet him."

He almost felt remorse at the harsh words about her family when she gave him a pained look but she covered it up quickly. "I can't help me," she told him. "I have no idea where my parents are right now and they didn't have any friends or any way to track them down, so maybe those parts of my history won't change, but I at least owe it to Dean to give him a normal life. If that means I don't have him in mine then I'll just have to live with that."

"What about the baby?"

Her hand moved to rest gingerly on her belly. "It just won't be born," she said quietly.

"And do you think Dean would accept that choice?"

"He'll have five babies of his own and a wife and a dog and a friggin' minivan so what he won't know won't hurt him."

Cas bit his lip and took a deep breath. _Stubborn humans_. "Natasha," he said slowly, "it was always your fate that you and Dean meet and create this child. It was prophesized."

"By Chuck?" She snorted.

"Chuck is simply an avenue for God's word."

Her eyes narrowed and her forehead creased in thought. "Wait a minute. Are you saying the way I feel about Dean was ordained? Some notion that some dickhead angel put in my head?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Coz I gotta disagree with you right there Twinkletoes. What I feel is Free Will all the way.  What me and Dean have... you are _not_   taking that away from me!"

Cas was a little taken aback by her vehemence. He shook his head. "Raphael was the one feeding Chuck most of his visions, not God," he started to explain. "I only found that out shortly before Sam opened Lucifer's prison..."

"You mean just before you helped Zack kidnap Dean and stop him from finding Sam and preventing the whole apocalypse?" There was nothing subtle about the sarcasm and Cas didn't miss the open hostility in her voice.

"I died trying to help Dean," he pointed out defensively.

"Too little too late, if you ask me."

The angel gritted his teeth in annoyance at her disrespect. She was worse than either Winchester and she seemed to have a personal grudge against him. "It was Sam who opened the cage," he pointed out. "Of his own free will."

That didn't appease the brunette. "Don't even get me started on Sam. I have a few choice words saved for him when I get more than five minutes with him. All I know is a year ago you pulled Dean out of Hell and pushed him around to serve you and your angel agenda but did you ever stop to think he might be messed up? He spent forty years down there! He needed help, goddamnit!" She was clearly angry and had been holding this in for a while.  "A year later he showed up on my doorstep a fucked up mess. When he first got back from Hell, _you_   made me leave, Cas. That left you and Sam to fix him but you only made him worse. I'm grateful for you for pulling him out of the pit but your responsibility didn't end there. I mean, you're an _angel_   for Christ's sake!"

Cas sighed, seeing now why this particular human always seemed to be on the verge of telling him off. He couldn't help but agree with most of what she was saying and already felt a great deal of guilt for his role in Dean's downward emotional spiral. He had sensed the hunter's anguish and despair over the past year and yet he had done nothing to appease it. He had been too preoccupied with following orders and 'the bigger picture'. Perhaps he should have taken some measures to give the troubled hunter some peace. Perhaps he should have erased the memories of Hell. Now that he didn't have all his powers, however, that was no longer an option.

"I'm not letting him go through everything all over again, Cas," she said decisively.

"I understand I failed him," Cas admitted, meaning every word. "I take responsibility for that, which is why I will not fail him now. It is for Dean that I will keep you and your baby safe. But you cannot change things. In fact, you may only make things worse. As I was trying to tell you, this vision from Chuck, the one regarding the child, was not sent by any Archangel. It is not known who sent it but the only other powerful enough to do so is God.  This one was different." Cas believed this wholeheartedly. He believed God wanted this child born and God had brought him back to life after Raphael had killed him so he could protect it, so he coul protect humans. The number of angels who still believed them to be His greatest creation was quickly dwindling.

Natasha remained quiet and her belligerent look was fading so he continued his argument in a softer tone. "This baby _will_   be conceived and that means Dean _is_ going to be the Righteous Man which means nothing you do now can stop him from going to Hell in the future. If you change things, this much will still happen but you may change other things. Maybe Sam dies. Or maybe Sam is the father and the child could potentially help Lucifer. Or maybe Dean dies. Maybe Bobby dies. Maybe Sam says yes to Lucifer. The ways in which this could turn out worse are infinite, Natasha. At least this way the child is Dean's and both Winchesters are alive."

He knew he had her convinced but she stood silent for a long moment, taking it all in. "Sal's car's toast," she said finally. "He's gonna buy a new one sometime this week and said he would drive me back when he gets it but…" she turned to look past the hedge at the Campbell house, "…I guess I have no reason to stick around. You mind zapping us back to Philly?"

Cas recognized an olive branch when he heard one. He reached out to take her hand to transport her back to Philadelphia but a shocking revelation hit him as soon as their skin made contact and he yanked it back with a gasp.

"Natasha..." he said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"There are _two_   babies."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Dean sat in the Impala's passenger seat with the door open, holding Cassie and speaking soothingly to the sobbing, frightened girl. She had calmed substantially by the time Cas opened the motel door and gave him a curt nod.

"Okay, sweetie," he said encouragingly to the little girl on his lap. "Uncle Sam's okay now. Can we go in to see him?" He couldn't leave her alone in the car and he figured it would do her good to see her uncle being nice again.

"The demon's gone?" she squeaked, looking up at him with smaller versions of his own eyes.

"Unh-huh," he nodded, getting out of the car. "All gone."

She clung to him tightly but didn't protest as he opened the motel door and stepped inside, expecting to see an apologetic Sam begging forgiveness. Instead, he saw his brother lying on the bed, completely passed out.

"Cas?" he asked urgently, handing Cassie over to the angel so he could approach his brother.

The blood was once again free-flowing from Sam's temple, streaking down the side of his quickly-bruising face. The front of his shirt was drenched in blood and Dean could see the large, dark spot getting larger as he approached. "Shhh….ugar, Cas," he breathed. "What did you do?"

"It was not me," Cas answered him, holding Cassie on the other side of the room with her back to the injured hunter. "I killed the demon inside him and the injuries he sustained prior to being possessed are now returning."

Dean ripped open Sam's shirt to see his anti-possession tattoo sliced to shreds with a dozen knife cuts and darkening, purple bruising covering the majority of his stomach and abs. He felt a series of egg-shaped lumps on the back of Sam's head and knew a concussion was inevitable. He pressed two experienced fingers gingerly up each side of Sam's ribcage and received a pained gasp from the slowly awakening hunter when he reached a series of cracked ribs.

"Sam?" he said softly, any anger or resentment he may have been harboring towards his brother for losing his son dissipating completely as he realized just how much of a fight the young uncle had put up trying to protect his nephew.

"Sammy," Sam whispered, his eyes fluttering open. "Hafta help Sammy…" He moved, trying to sit up but fell quickly back on the bed, partly from weakness and partly from Dean's hand pushing him back down.

"We will," Dean assured him, shelving his own worry. Sam needed cleaned up and properly looked at but right now, they had to get out of here or he would be losing two children today. "Trust me, we will."

"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, his eyes fighting to stay open. "Dean, I'm sorry."

Underneath his almost overwhelming worry for Little Sammy and for his brother, Dean felt a thread of relief. It felt good to _not_   be angry at Sam. It felt good to know his brother had fought like a son of a bitch to protect his family, their family. It felt good to know he could trust him to do so. It occurred to him how unfortunate it was that it took his brother being half-killed by demons to prove he would stand by Dean, but there it was – that first large and undeniable brick was laid in rebuilding their shattered relationship. Maybe he hadn't completely lost his brother, after all.

"I hate to do this, Sam," Dean announced as he slung his brother's arm over his shoulder. "But we gotta go. I'll patch you up in the car, okay?"

Sam nodded and Dean lifted, heaving his gigantic brother upright and out to the car, where he dropped him as gently as he could in the passenger seat. Cas put Cassie in her car seat and flashed into the tight space between hers and the dishearteningly empty one on the driver's side. One more quick trip inside and Dean shoved all their stuff in the trunk and practically skidded his way out of the lot towards the highway.

"What did you find out, Cas?" he asked the angel as he tried to press some clean gauze against Sam's bleeding chest and drive at the same time. "Where'd they take Sammy?"

"The demon did not know," Cas informed him solemnly. "She didn't know where Lucifer is; only that he's somewhere in the southern portion of this country. She answers and reports to a slightly higher-ranking demon who in turn answers to one with yet higher ranking and so on and so on. It seems to be a similar hierarchy as that of Heaven," he observed pensively. "Which makes sense since Lucifer is, after all, an angel."

"Lucifer's roadkill is what he is," Dean ground out, fully intending to make that a reality.

"They found you through what she called a fluke," Cas continued. "Apparently they were just passing through this town when they saw your car parked in front of the motel. They couldn't get into the room for the salt line so they watched and waited until they saw your brother leave the safety of the room with Sammy."

Dean was surprised at the simplicity of how they had been found. He would have to be sure to park more discreetly from now on. The chances were slim that it would happen again but there were a lot of demons looking for him and his family and his car did stand out a little, so not slim enough.

"What do we do now?" Cas asked after a pause, sounding uncharacteristically submissive.

"We go get my son back," Dean answered with determination. "We comb the countryside looking for every demon we can scare up and we find out where Lucifer is." Dean looked over at his brother, whose head had slumped forward, his blood-matted hair hanging in front of his bloody, bruised face. He glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Cassie's tear streaked face gazing back at him, her tiny hand clutching the sleeve of Cas's trench coat.

"But first we need to put Cassie somewhere safe," he said, realizing he couldn't drag her in the search for Sammy and keep her safe at the same time. "And get Sam cleaned up."

He pulled out his cell phone and hit speedial number four. "Hi, Ellen? It's Dean. I need your help."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	8. I Get by with a Little Help with my Friends

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

With a long overdue stroke of luck, it turned out Ellen and Jo were just wrapping up a job one state over and they agreed to meet the Winchesters in a small town somewhere in between. Ellen had a lot of hunter contacts from her years running the Roadhouse and knew a cottage one of them owned in Hilham, Tennessee that she said would be empty and well demon-proofed. With his attention focused on his injured brother next to him, Dean had kept the conversation short, not telling her anything about what was going on over the phone.

He did a rough patch-up job on Sam in a gas station bathroom but was glad when they pulled into the gravel driveway late afternoon and saw Ellen's Jeep in front of the garage. He pulled up next to it and got out, taking Cassie's hand and walking her to the door while Cas helped Sam to his feet.

The brothers had run into Ellen and Jo in Colorado with Rufus just over a month ago when the horseman War had been brought topside to wreak havoc, pitting both townspeople and hunters against each other. Sam and Dean hadn't stuck around very long afterwards but had pretty much brought the Harvelles up to speed on the Apocalypse and had promised to keep in touch. Ellen answered the door with a smile and immediately gave Dean a warm hug, not noticing the little blonde girl who was being unusually quiet and hiding behind her Daddy's legs.

"Hi boys," she greeted. "So you didn't say much on the phone. You wanna tell me what's goin'…" She cut off when her eyes moved past Dean to rest on Sam approaching, his arm over the shoulder of a blue-eyed stranger in a trench coat. "Oh, I see," she nodded calmly, clearly taking in his injuries. "C'mon, get your asses in here." She stood aside to let them in.

Dean took Cassie's hand again and ushered her into the house in front of him, getting an arched eyebrow from Ellen. "I didn't realize you'd have civilians with you," she commented as Cas helped Sam inside and shrugged him off onto the couch. "What's their story?"

Before Dean could answer, Jo came into the room from what appeared to be the kitchen. Dean gave her a quick smile and a nod.

"Hey Dean," she smiled back before glancing over at Sam. "Geez Sam, you're really working that ' _I got the crap kicked out of me'_   look, huh?"

Sam held his ribcage in pain as a short burst of laughter escaped him. "And here I was going for the _'you should see the other guy'_   look," he chuckled.

"Hi, I'm Ellen," the elder Harvelle said suddenly, extending a hand to Cas to shake. "This is my daughter Jo." She nodded towards the slim blonde then down at the little girl still holding Dean's hand. "This must be your daughter?" she asked, directing the question at Cas.

"No," Cas said simply. "She is Dean's."

Both women's eyes shot open and their jaws dropped. Dean would have found their matching looks of shock amusing if his world wasn't in the process of crashing down around him.

Jo recovered first and managed a laugh. "So one of your one night stands finally caught up with ya, huh Dean?" she teased.

It would have been hard to miss the tensing of Dean's jaw and his hard swallow. "It wasn't like that," he said evenly, knowing Jo didn't mean any harm by the comment but unable to elaborate any farther. What he had with Tasha wasn't really easy to explain.

There was a sudden, heavy silence in the room before Ellen finally broke the ice.

"Okay boys," she said lightly. "Why don't you fill us in? We saw you less than a month ago and you didn't mention this little sweetheart." She smiled down at Cassie.

Dean sighed and sank onto a free chair, pulling Cassie up onto his lap. She remained uncharacteristically quiet and cuddled up to him immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his chest.

"I just found out about the kids a week or so ago," he explained. "And I just met them three days ago."

"Kids? As in plural?" Ellen always was a sharp one.

"Yeah, they're twins; Cassie and Sammy. The demons…" He stopped and stood up with the little girl, taking a step towards his closest friend. "Hey Cas, can you take Cassie out…"

"There's a bedroom in the back," Ellen offered as Dean handed his daughter to Cas, who simply nodded and headed that way.

"Who is that guy?" Jo asked as soon as he disappeared through the door at the back of the room.

"That's Castiel," Dean explained, taking his seat again.

"The angel?" Jo's eyes widened again.

"Yeah," Dean managed half a smirk. "I told you he looks human." His smile faded quickly, however, once Cas had closed the door behind him, leaving the coast clear to talk freely without Cassie hearing. "The demons took Little Sammy this morning."

"Oh, sugar, I'm sorry." Ellen said sincerely, her hand tapping his knee in a comforting gesture. "I'm almost afraid to ask," she added, "but what do they want with your son?"

"Supposedly he's gonna tip the scales in Michael's direction if it comes down to the big battle between him and Lucifer."

Ellen's lips pressed together tightly. "Don't those dicks ever get tired of dragging you Winchesters into their family squabbles?"

Dean couldn't agree more. "I wish. Luckily, the demons think he's Sam's son, which according to the prophecy, means he's supposed to help Lucifer instead of Michael. As long as they keep thinking that, they won't hurt him."

Ellen looked skeptical. "He's young, Dean. Kids and secrets ... how long do you think…?"

"He doesn't talk to strangers," the young father said quickly. "And he actually looks more like Sam, like my dad's side. They won't question it." He hoped like Hell that was the truth.

"What can we do to help you get him back?" Ellen asked.

"I need you to watch Cassie for me. I have to go after him and I can't drag her along right into the Devil's back yard. They're after her too coz they don't know which of the kids is the one who's supposed to help Lucifer."

"Of course. She'll be safe with us," Ellen agreed instantly.

"I know she will," Dean said honestly. He trusted the Harvelles and knew both of them would fight tooth and nail to protect his daughter, though hopefully it wouldn't come to that. "Thanks Ellen."

"Mom will look after her, Dean," Jo spoke up. "I'm coming with you guys. I'll help you get your son back."

"No." Dean shook his head.

"You're gonna need all the help you can get," Jo folded her arms across her chest.

"No," the hunter repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm already asking too much of both of you. Every demon on the planet is trying to find my kids, not to mention the angels."

"The angels?" Ellen's forehead creased in confusion.

"Yeah, they want their hands on them too. If they find out they're my kids, they'll snatch them until the big fight. If they think they're Sam's, they'll kill them without thinking twice. I just need to get them back and keep them away from everyone. The demons are already onto Bobby – he can't even go home - and I hate to drag you two into this but after …" he sighed, "...after our part in letting Lucifer out, our friends in the hunter world are few and far between right now."

"It's me they blame," Sam said quietly, the first words he had spoken in the conversation. "The bad rumors are all about me. It's me they don't trust."

Dean held his hand up to shut his brother's guilt trip down before it picked up any steam. "Any enemy of yours, Sam, is an enemy of mine. Doesn't matter who did what at this point. What's done is done."

Ellen looked over to the younger Winchester. "Damn, son, I'm sorry. Here we are gabbing while you're sittin' there bleeding," she apologized. "Jo, why don't you take Sam into the kitchen and patch him up?"

Jo surprisingly didn't argue despite her mother's bossy tone and nodded. She stepped over to Sam and pulled him gently up by the shoulder. "Come on, Goliath. You look like crap."

Ellen gave Dean a long, hard look as the younger pair disappeared into the kitchen. "You okay, son?" she asked finally.

"I just want to get my son back and keep my kids safe."

The older woman nodded. "Trust me, I can understand that. Do you mind me askin' who the mother is?"

"Her name's Tasha," he answered, realizing as soon as he had said it that he had mistakenly used the present tense. "She was a hunter. We … we weren't together long but…"

"She didn't make it, did she?"

Dean shook his head. "Died three days ago."

"Why didn't she tell you about the kids?"

"She did. Well, Cas did." He got a questioning look. "It's a crazy story, Ellen."

"Well, your brother needs quite a bit of patching up so we got time for a little bit of crazy."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Jo pushed Sam into a wooden chair in the kitchen and opened up a very well-stocked medic bag on the nearby counter, hauling out gauze, bandages, alcohol and a suture kit. She started by taking a wet cloth to the nasty cut on his forehead, her fingers running soft circles around the back of his head and eliciting a concerned-sounding _"hmmmm"_   at the egg-shaped bumps they were finding.

She worked quietly and efficiently for the first couple of minutes, prying his lids open and taking a good look into his unevenly-dilated hazel eyes. Not looking pleased, she moved to the cuts on his chest, helping him out of his blood-soaked shirt and grimacing at the state of the shredded tattoo. It was a few minutes before she spoke.

"So the twins' mom," she said hesitantly, "Dean loved her didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did," Sam admitted. He knew Jo had once nursed a crush on his elder brother but it had seemed like she might have moved past that. He had realized in Colorado last month that she had grown up a lot since her days arguing with her mom at the Roadhouse. He gave her a curious look accompanied by a half-hearted smirk. "Why, you jealous?" he teased lightly.

The blonde scoffed. "No. I admit I might have been a couple of years ago but ... wrong place wrong time, I guess. I just have a hard time picturing Dean in a relationship." She pulled the suture needle out of the kit and got to work on the first of the half-dozen cuts that would need stitches. "What was she like?"

"Tash?" Sam focused on the conversation to try and block out the pain from the needle. "She was, uhh, unique." He chuckled fondly, not sure what other word would describe Tasha any more accurately. "I mean, she was tough," he added. "Tough as nails actually, and on the surface she seemed like she had it all together but if you got to know her - which hardly ever happened but if did get to know her - you realized she was just as messed up as the rest of us. She called it like she saw it.  She'd tell you straight up if you pissed her off or did something stupid." He winced as the needle hit a particularly sensitive spot. "One thing was for sure though," he continued, "she loved Dean. So much that even he couldn't deny it or doubt it, no matter how hard he might have tried. As for a relationship," he exhaled slowly, his eyes growing sad.  "Honestly, the two of them together was like watching the blind leading the blind but somehow ... somehow they just worked."

Jo nodded. "She's dead, isn't she?" she asked, sounding genuinely sorry and Sam didn't detect any jealousy in her voice.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Three days ago. She died saving the kids, and the rest of us."

There was a lengthy silence as Jo expertly applied a butterfly clip to the top end of the longest of the cuts.

"At least he's still got you," she said finally. "And knowing you guys, you'll get his son back."

Sam wasn't so optimistic. "He has me but," he swallowed, "but right now I don't really think that means much to him. Or that it's any help to him."

"Whatever's going on between you two, you'll get past it." She sounded confident.

"Dean's not that big on giving second chances," Sam argued. "Though this time, I sure as Hell hope he makes an exception or I'm screwed." Sam really hoped his brother would forgive him someday because otherwise, he would be banging his head against the wall for the rest of his life trying to make up for all he had done wrong to Dean last year. Either way, he was determined to never stop trying.

"I take it then you guys haven't resolved your issues yet?" The question was asked carefully. Ellen and Jo had figured out pretty quickly back in Colorado that the Winchester brothers were at odds but had tactfully and respectfully not pressed for any details.

"I screwed up," Sam blurted, wondering how much he should tell the young blonde. "I trusted the wrong person and now the Devil's free. I don't blame Dean for hating me." Jo simply nodded so he continued. "Now I've gone and lost his son... It doesn't get any worse than that."

"What do you mean you lost him? I thought the demons took him."

"The demons took him _from me_."

"Looks like you put up one Hell of a fight," she pointed out, gesturing towards the massive bruises on his chest and stomach.

"Not enough." Sam couldn't help but think if he'd only still been drinking demon blood, then he would have annihilated those demons without breaking a sweat and Little Sammy would be safe and sound with his father right now.

She frowned at him and dabbed an alcohol-soaked ball of cotton wool directly on his chest cuts, eliciting a hiss of pain out of him.

"Ow! Anyone ever tell you that you have a terrible bedside manner?" he griped.

"You Winchesters are such babies," she laughed before her face went serious again and her voice got quiet. "You know, when I first met you two, Dean was the angsty tortured one. Now I'd say you're giving him a good run for his money."

Sam realized he had fallen back into his old habit of oversharing but he didn't care. "When you first met us," he told her, "Dean was dealing with the fact that our dad died to save him. I just condemned six billion people to pain, misery, and death."

She chucked again. "You always were the melodramatic one."

He couldn't help the lopsided smile that curled his lips upwards and suddenly felt the urge to come clean. Ellen and Jo were their friends and they had the right to know what he had done. They had never judged the brothers nor pushed for details on what had happened, despite the rumors circulating in the hunter world, and had always taken their side. "Jo, I'm gonna tell you something and I'll understand if you hate me or even take a swing at me," he said.

"Well that's quite the setup," she rolled her eyes. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. Two years ago you tied me to a post and threatened to kill me. Next time I saw you, I tied you to a chair and poured salt down your throat. Not your smoothest of friendships, I'd say, but here I am cleaning up your sorry, mangled ass so I think we can take whatever else you got, Goliath."

"This is different." He paused, remaining silent with trepidation.

"You waiting until I finish with the needle?" she snickered after a long moment passed.

"Uh, yeah, actually," he smiled at her. "I thought that'd be wise."

She finished with the cut she was working on and put the needle down, dabbing lightly with damp cotton wool.

Sam took a deep breath. "I started all this," he blurted. "And not by some accidental mistake like we've implied. I trusted a demon over my brother and I hurt Dean and almost strangled him then I went off with this demon and we hunted Lilith down and I killed her. Turns out, Lilith dying was the last seal so basically, I single handedly let Lucifer free."

Jo remained quiet.

"So everything that is happening now... everything that's _going_   to happen ... all of it is my fault," the young hunter finished.

"Sam!" Dean's voice barked from the doorway. Sam and Jo both turned to see him standing there, hands clenched at his sides, his warning tone and his fearful scowl making it obvious he was displeased at Sam for admitting everything. Well, almost everything - Sam wasn't about to admit his most shameful secret, that he had become addicted to demon blood.

"They deserve to know, Dean," Sam defended his choice. "We're dragging them into this so they deserve to know the truth about it."

Dean swallowed hard and gave Jo a look that seemed more pleading than anything else before he turned around and left without saying another word.

Sam looked up at Jo. "So you gonna take that swing at me?"

"Did you know when you killed Lilith that she was the last seal?"

"No, of course not."

"Then I'll save my right hook for the ones that did." She grabbed the bandages and started taping them over his ruined tattoo.

Sam felt a huge wave of relief. Bobby had forgiven him and now Jo. Dean was showing signs of moving in that direction also, throwing no blame his way for Sam's role in losing his son. Maybe Sam would be able to find forgiveness and redemption after all.

"At least now I know what's eating you up," Jo added with a shrug.

He cocked his head at the blonde. "You mean why I'm angsty and tortured?" he grinned.

That got a laugh out of her. "Hey, don't knock it. Angsty and tortured is pretty sexy."

Sam blushed a little, suddenly well aware that he was sitting on the kitchen chair with no shirt on while her slim hands floated around his chest and abdomen looking for cracked ribs.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Ellen had insisted they spend the night and give Sam a few hours of sleep while the rest of them looked for a lead on the demons that had taken Dean's son. Despite wanting to get going, Dean realized he had no idea where to start so taking advantage of Ellen's connections seemed like the smart thing to do.

The elder Harvelle spent most of the night on the phone, as did Bobby from his location in South Dakota a few miles from his house. Dean and Jo scanned police scanners and searched online for anything that could potentially indicate demon activity. Sam had insisted on staying up to help despite Ellen's authoritative 'suggestion' he go to bed and despite Dean's insistence he take it easy, but had passed out less than an hour into the research, his laptop sliding off his lap and onto the mattress between him and his sleeping niece.

Cas marked Ellen and Jo's ribs to hide them from angels and demons both before disappearing to do some recon of his own, popping back outside the front door just before dawn.

They found out very little, only a report of someone with black eyes acting out of character and then taking off down in Texas, but it was something at least and Dean decided that was where they would start.

Ellen made the whole gang a pancake breakfast and even tried to convince Cas to eat, with no luck.

"What about your vessel?" she coaxed. "He's gotta be hungry."

"I don't feel much of his presence anymore," Cas told her politely. "He died and my occupation of his body is all that is keeping him alive but he isn't aware most of the time."

"So you're running around saving the world in his meatsuit for six years and he won't remember any of it?" Jo asked curiously.

Cas shook his head. "No."

Cassie was in much better spirits this morning. Much to Sam's relief, she didn't seem to be harboring any lingering fear of him after what she had seen him do yesterday morning. And she seemed quite taken with Jo.

"I like your hair," she told the blonde hunter. "It's yellow like mine."

Jo smiled. "Yeah?  You know what? I love your curls."

Cassie beamed. "The lady next door says the mailman gave them to me coz Cas isn't my real daddy."

Dean almost choked on his pancakes. Jo laughed, looking over at the recent father. "I guess that makes you the mailman," she teased. "What is she, four, four and a half? When was her birthday?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted, looking to Cas.

"December 25th, 1967," the angel deadpanned.

"1967?" Jo squinted her eyes in confusion. "Am I missing something?"

"I'll fill you in later, hon," Ellen assured her.

Dean was still staring at Cas. "Christmas day? They were born on Christmas day?" How had he not known that? "Is there some significance to that, Cas?"

Cas raised an eyebrow. "Significance to December 25th? Why would there be?"

Jo chuckled. "An angel has to ask what the significance of Christmas day is?"

"Jesus wasn't actually born on Christmas day," Sam offered. "Right Cas?"

"No. Your bible has many errors."

"Mommy says me and Sammy's the best Christmas presents she ever got," Cassie announced.

"That you are, sweetie," Ellen smiled.

"The lady next door says that Christmas is when singers pwetend to be good people."

"I'm fairly certain Adele said 'sinners'," Cas said evenly in response to the questioning looks the humans were giving the little girl.

Dean groaned. "Cassie, you need to forget everything this lady next door ever told you. What did your mommy say about listening to her?"

Cassie huffed loudly. "Mommy says the lady next door is a nosey old bat who should take the stick out of her hat."

Sam snickered. "Yeah, I'm sure Tasha said 'hat'," he scoffed as he tenderly put his coat on.

"Are we leaving, Daddy?" Cassie asked, seeing Dean had stood up from the table and was pulling on his jacket also. "Can we go see Sammy and Mommy?"

Cas blinked slowly at the question and averted his eyes downward. Sam's shoulders slumped in pity. Dean, however, put on a brave face for his daughter and got down on one knee in front of her.

"Me and Cas and Uncle Sam are going to go get Sammy," he told her carefully. "I need you to stay here with Ellen and Jo, okay?"

"No!" Cassie threw her arms around him and clung tightly. "No, no, Daddy I wanna go with you; I wanna stay with you!"

Dean hugged her tightly. "Look, I won't be long 'kay?"

"No!" the little girl wailed, tears now flowing freely from her green eyes. "Don't go Daddy! Don't go! I want Mommy!" She hung onto Dean desperately, her body shaking with sobs. "Don't go! Where's Sammy? Where's Mommy?"

Dean gave Ellen a pleading look over the girl's shoulder, not sure what to do and hating the sound of his daughter's crying almost as much as the questions she was asking. This was the first total meltdown he had been faced with and he wasn't sure if a firm hand was the way to go or if he should let her cry it out.

Ellen smiled and stepped forward, gently prying Cassie off her father. "Hey sweetie, what's your brother's favorite breakfast?"

Cassie turned slowly to look at the elder lady, her sobs subsiding slightly. "Mommy makes chocwate pancakes for Sammy when he's sad."

"Mmmm," Ellen's eyes widened. "That sure sounds good. What do you say you teach me how to make 'em and we can practice for when Sammy comes?"

Cassie turned back to Dean, looking torn.

"Well, I would LOVE some chocolate pancakes when I get back," Dean grinned at her.

"Me too," Sam chimed in, giving the angel standing next to him an hinting nudge with his elbow.

"And uh, I would perhaps eat some also," Cas stammered.

Cassie's eyes widened. "Cas, you'll _eat?"_   A huge grin spread across her face.

"He will if you behave for Ellen and Jo while we're gone," Dean bargained.

"Yes! Yes!" Cassie giggled, grabbing Ellen's hand and dragging her back towards the kitchen, her father's departure forgotten for the moment. "Mommy says Cas only ate one time when he had the munchies..."

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at the angel but took advantage of the distraction to herd the other two men out the door, giving Jo one last nod of thanks before closing it behind him.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	9. Add Two More to the Roster

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

It was a long drive down to Texas and Cas rode most of the way with the brothers, sitting quietly in the back seat of the Impala. Cassie's car seat had been transferred to Ellen's Jeep but Dean had insisted they keep Sammy's since they would need it once they rescued his son. The three men were mostly silent, each lost deep within their own dark thoughts.

It was Sam who spoke up first, finally voicing a concern that had been pressing on his mind more and more often with each passing day.

"You know, Dean," he said hesitantly. "You're eventually gonna have to tell the kids about Tasha."

His brother gave him a sharp glare. "You really think on top of everything else they've gone through the past few days I should hit them with the news that their mother's dead and never coming back?" he demanded defensively.

Hearing it put like that, Sam could see Dean's position. "No," he admitted with a sigh. "I'm just saying; eventually."

"I know, I know. Let them get used to me and then I'll tell them. Anyway, it's kind of a moot point at the moment, isn't it?" Dean growled. "Kids aren't exactly here to tell."

"We'll get him back," Sam said encouragingly, determined to make that the truth.

His words did little to lift Dean's spirits and the next hour was spent in heavy silence. It was Dean that broke it this time, desperate to shift his attention to something other than the terrifying images that kept running through his head of what Lucifer and the demons could be doing to his little boy this very minute; visions of his son terrified and alone, surrounded by monsters, screaming for Daddy.

"How you doin' anyway?" he asked his brother, acutely aware Sam was still in rough shape and determined to keep him out of any violent confrontations if at all possible.

"I'm fine," Sam delivered the standard Winchester answer with almost convincing sincerity. "Jo patched me up pretty good."

A hint of a smirk played on Dean's face. "I'll bet she did," he sneered with an unmistakable suggestive tone. "Was it just me or did I sense a little spark between you two kids?"

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the question.

"And remember last month she had you tied to a chair? Maybe she's into all that S&M stuff," Dean continued.

Getting no satisfactory reaction from Sam, Dean gave up and decided to move on to the next target.

"So, Cas," he caught the angel's eye in the rear view mirror. "What did Cassie mean by you're not her real daddy?"

Cas gave a little snort before answering and it struck Dean how many human mannerisms the angel had picked up in his five years of hiding out in the sixties.

"Tasha was having difficulties fitting in," Cas explained. "Into the neighborhood. Adele Moriarty, the lady next door, was creating a stir and people were starting to talk unpleasantly about Tasha. It was, after all, 1967 and she appeared to be an unwed pregnant woman of hispanic ethnicity who was spending a lot of time with Gunter, the wheelchair-bound, alcoholic veteran from two doors down. I merely suggested she blend in more and stop attracting attention, so she told Adele that she was married and that I was her husband."

Dean's mouth dropped open.   _"Husband?"_   he manged.  "So you guys were playing house that whole time?"  He wasn't sure if he should be jealous or not but he definitely found the notion absurdly entertaining.

"Actually, I was away searching for God most of the time," Cas told the brothers.

"How'd you explain that?" Sam asked, an amused smile playing on his lips also.

Cas sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "Tasha told everyone I was a traveling Bible salesman," he admitted. "Apparently in 1967, humans didn't much like Bible salesmen. Personally, I believe she knew this and said so on purpose. I must say she was … difficult at the beginning."

The Winchesters both chuckled. Yep, that sounded like Tasha.

"You guys seemed to smooth things out though," Dean pointed out, remembering how well the pair had seemed to get along when they had arrived back in 2009.

"Yes," Cas acknowledged quietly. "We did eventually."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_December 23th, 1967…_ **

"You're leaving again?"

"There is talk among the fairies of a Fae prophet. This could be a lead on finding our Father."

"Hmph. You mean _your_   father," Tasha snorted. "He sure isn't mine."

Cas pursed his lips and ignored her near-blasphemous remark. For a while following their confrontation in Lawrence she had been less argumentative but now she seemed to be getting more agitated and short-tempered with him as her pregnancy neared fulfillment.

"Do I need to remind you what finding him could mean?" Cas tried to be patient. "It could end all the troubles in the future."

She just huffed and folded her arms across her eight-month-pregnant belly. "Who's gonna believe you're my husband if you take off two days before Christmas?" she accused.

Cas groaned. A few months ago, it had been the brunette's idea to quell the local gossip by telling people he was her husband. He had pointed out that he didn't think he would be very convincing in that role but she had dismissed his concerns, started wearing her own mother's wedding band, and even accepted a couple's invitation to a backyard barbeque in the neighborhood.

"Don't worry, Cas," she had told him with a mocking grin as she dragged him reluctantly across the street. "All these so-called 'religious' folks are full of shit. If somebody starts a conversation with you, just start talking God and religion and trust me, they'll keep the conversations short."

She had been right and Cas had used the ploy every time some neighbor had approached him since then, successfully turning them all off with the exception of Adele, the lady next door who considered herself quite the God-loving citizen and actually started to seek Cas out when she saw he was home. Cas was fairly certain Tasha derived enjoyment from his discomfort.

"Howcome you can't stick around?" Tasha asked him now and the angel was surprised to find no anger in her voice. In fact, she sounded almost sad.

"Have you seen signs of demons or angels?" Cas asked her, his forehead creasing with concern. "Is there some danger or something you need me here for?"

She huffed again, her annoyance returning quickly. "Some company would be nice," she snapped.

"You have Dorothy," he reminded her, finding himself yet again trying to figure out what he was doing wrong. It seemed the farther along she got in her pregnancy, the more annoyed she would become with him. "And you have Gunter."

Gunter was a forty-six year old veteran of the current war in Vietnam who had been held in a POW camp for two months only to lose both of his legs in a grenade explosion during his rescue. He had returned a couple of months ago and moved back in with his parents who lived two doors down from Dorothy's house. The judgmental neighbors of the predominantly-white Philadelphia suburb did not speak highly of him, claiming he was traumatized, crazy, volatile, and drank too much. In general, they showed him very little respect for his sacrifice. Tasha, on the other hand, seemed to have formed an immediate friendship with the man, a fact several 'concerned' neighbors had felt the need to point out to her husband whenever they saw him around.

Cas had expressed his concern, not understanding why she seemed to stick out and attract more attention in this neighborhood than he did, but Tasha had basically told him to cut the 'dictator routine' and to stop ordering her around. She later explained that people just didn't get Gunter but that she had an idea of what he had gone through having been held captive and tortured for days by the vampire Diego. Their similar experiences gave them a mutual understanding of one another and she wasn't going to turn on him like the rest of the 'two-faced asshole racists around here'. Cas hadn't sensed any threat from the wheelchair-bound veteran other than the gossip of neighbors so he had wisely let the subject drop.

He looked now to see Tasha still glaring at him and he gave her a confused look. "I leave all the time, Natasha," he said evenly. "What is different this time?"

"What's different?" she exclaimed. "Look at me!" She pointed to her expanded belly. "I'm the freaking Goodyear blimp!"

Cas creased his forehead, not seeing her point. "Yes, your girth has increased dramatically over the past few weeks but..." he trailed off, seeing her eyes narrow and her mouth drop open in a look of angered incredulity. He groaned inwardly, knowing he had somehow inadvertently said the wrong thing again. She was even harder to figure out than Dean Winchester.

She suddenly started laughing; her whole body shaking so hard her hand went to her side in an attempt to hold it still. Cas was unsure if she was insulting him or mocking him before she finally shook her head and spoke. "You really don't have a friggin' clue, do you?" she asked, still laughing.

"I, uh…"

"Just make sure you're here when these two pop out, okay?" she said more seriously, tapping her belly to indicate the twins. "I'm ..." she bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose. "Look, Cas, I can take on demons or vampires or ghosts but this - " She hesitated and laid her hand on top of her belly. "I don't know how…I can't…" She sighed in defeat and locked her brown eyes on his. "Cas, I'm really scared and I don't want to be alone when they come. I really need you to be here."

The angel felt a rush of relief, interpreting her heartfelt admission to mean she valued his friendship and appreciated his protection after all. He realized that he was becoming more and more fond of her also as they spent time together, despite her infuriating obstinacy. He was about to express his growing affection in words when she spoke up again, interrupting his unspoken thought.

"I mean, you're all I got so I guess you'll have to do," she said, still averting her eyes uncomfortably.

Cas pursed his lips, giving up for the time being and calling it a truce. "I'll return soon," he said simply and left.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_Present …_ **

Bobby called just as the Impala crossed the border from Arkansas into Texas to update the Winchesters on the demon they were tracking. Last night, Ellen had found out that a man in Greenville had stabbed his wife and neighbor to death before sauntering away down the street. Witnesses had reported his eyes flashing black so it stood to reason the man had been possessed. It had been a thin lead but all they could find on such short notice but Bobby's update made it sound a lot more promising. Dean put the older hunter on speakerphone so Cas and Sam could hear the news.

The man had been spotted again, this time robbing a local plastic processing plant at gunpoint, needlessly shooting three employees as he drove a truck full of hazardous chemicals out through the gate. Again witnesses had insisted his eyes were black. Naturally the police assumed the guy was high on something and was stealing chemicals in some absurd attempt to make more. The truck had disappeared somewhere on the highway before it ran into any of the roadblocks that the local authorities had set up, but the man had been picked up in Marshall. Apparently he had been cornered in a church where he had killed the priest and surrendered to the thirty some police surrounding the place.

"So where is he now?" Dean asked.

"Jail in Marshall," Bobby divulged. "Word is he had been laughing and spouting doom and gloom crap until the moment he was left alone in his cell. Then he does a one-eighty and suddenly starts crying and claiming something got inside him and made him do it."

"So that means the demon's gone," Dean groaned. "We need to get our hands on a demon."

"No wait," Sam interrupted. "They're up to something. I mean, stealing chemicals? Not their usual MO. This guy might remember something. He might know where Lucifer is or at least where other demons are."

"Yeah," Bobby's gruff voice sounded in agreement. "We're fightin' blind here, boys. These past few weeks since the big Kahuna got out, the demons aren't leaving many borrowed meatsuits alive. I'm figuring they're not taking the risk of them spilling the beans on Morning Star's big plans. This guy was in jail when the demon smoked out - he could be our only chance at landing some decent intel."

An hour later they pulled up in front of the police station in Marshall, already wearing their Fed suits. Cas angel-ported out of the car to stand next to them on the sidewalk but Dean shook his head.

"No way, dude," he told his friend. "You stay in the car."

Cas looked crestfallen.

"Why can't we let him come with us?" Sam shrugged, feeling mean when he noticed the dejected look. "He's wearing a suit."

"No way," Dean insisted. "Trust me, he sucks at the Fed thing."

Cas pursed his lips and flashed his way back into the Impala's back seat, turning his head away from them as they headed towards the building.

Sam snickered. "I think he's sulking."

Dean rolled his eyes but a smile tugged at his lips as he pulled out his Special Agent Page ID badge and flashed it at the desk officer in sync with Sam's Agent Plant.

"We're here to see prisoner Garth Dolemire," Dean said in his most authoritative tone.

"More feds?" the officer raised an eyebrow, giving the badges further scrutiny. "What office you from?" he questioned.

Sam handed him a business card. "Dallas."

The man took the card and gave it a lingering glance before rising to his feet. "Hang on. I'm just gonna call it in," he told them as he strolled towards a phone at the back of his desk.

Sam and Dean nodded but threw each other a wary glance.

"Bobby's not home," Sam mouthed to his brother. "We won't check out."

"So you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Dean whispered.

"Yup."

The pair glided discreetly sideways until they were out of the desk officer's view then they turned and hustled their way back out to the car. They jumped in and Dean pulled quickly out onto the road, circling around until they were in the parking lot behind the building.

"Okay, Cas. You're up." Dean killed the engine and turned around in his seat.

The angel gave him a hard stare. "I thought I sucked at this."

Sam grinned. "Are you _sulking_ , Cas?" 

"You only suck at the front door approach, Cas," Dean placated. "We need you to take us in the back door."

"Dean!" Sam made a distasteful face. "You mind rephrasing that?"

His brother didn't get a chance to answer because in a flash they were sitting next to each other on the lower bunk in a jail cell. Cas was standing just to the side and there was a mumbling sound coming from the bunk above them.

"Whoa, Quick Draw, a little warning next time!" Dean griped, standing up.

"GAHH!" came a shocked and terrified yelp from the man wearing an orange jumpsuit and lying on the top bunk. He opened his jaw to scream more but Dean was on him in a flash, one foot on the lower bunk and a strong hand clamped over the guy's mouth.

"You Garth Dolemore?" he demanded, dragging the smaller man roughly off the top bunk and pinning him on the floor without ever taking his hand off the guy's mouth.

The man was too scared to answer, muffled whines escaping around Dean's hand.

"We're not demons," Dean assured him with restrained patience. "We're the good guys. We just need to know what happened, okay? If I take my hand off, are you gonna be quiet?"

The man finally locked eyes with Dean and nodded slowly. Dean backed off, remaining crouched on one knee just in case. "Are you Garth Dolemore?" Dean repeated.

"Yes."

"Garth, we know what happened to you," Sam said in his well-practiced sympathetic voice. "We need to know if you remember anything of the time the demon was inside you."

It took some coaxing but Garth finally started divulging some details of things he remembered, which turned out to be quite a lot. Once he stopped blubbering at the memory of killing his wife, he explained that the demon possessing him was following orders. He was ordered to steal the truckload of Bisphenol and deliver it to some demons holed up at a house just outside of Greenville. Once that was done, he headed to Marshall on a more personal mission and killed the priest who had exorcized him back to hell a couple of decades ago.

"Are the demons still at that house in Greenville?" Sam asked.

"Doubt it," Garth shook his head. "They split up the tank of chemicals and left in several cars to take the stuff to some high-ranking demon in Springfield, Missouri."

"Is that where Lucifer is?" Dean demanded.

"I got no clue," the smaller man shrugged. "But it's his orders they're following."

"What did they want the chemicals for?" Sam asked.

"Some kind of weapon."

"A weapon?" Sam repeated. "To be used against who?"

Garth gave them a woeful look. "Against humanity," he said dramatically. "Their plan is to wipe out humans. He's going to kill all of us."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_December 25th, 1967…_ **

Cas returned two days later, annoyed and frustrated at his lack of success. He popped into the kitchen muttering something distasteful about fairies only to hear a commotion from the living room.

He strode through the arched doorway to find Tasha sitting back on the couch with a pained look on her face and their elderly hostess, Dorothy, hovering over her, fretting.

"What's going on?"

Both women looked over at him sharply. "Cas!" they exclaimed in unison.

"Oh thank goodness," Dorothy gushed. "Tasha's gone into labor. Her water's broken and she's having contractions but she refuses to go to the hospital. I told her we could ask Mr. Jeffries down the street to drive her but she insisted on waiting for you."

"Hey Cas," Tasha smiled at him through long, deep breaths. "I knew you'd get back in time."

"Are the babies being born?" Cas felt alarmed for he suddenly realized he had no idea what a human woman giving birth entailed. He had no idea how to help Tasha.

"Gee, what was your first clue?" Tasha snorted, struggling to get up off the couch. "You cut it kinda close, Cas. Now zap my gigantic ass over to the hospital, would you?"

Cas couldn't for the life of him figure out why she hadn't simply let the neighbor drive her to the hospital. Why would she have waited for him when he knew less than her about human babies and she had no idea when he would return in the first place? She was on her feet now holding a hand outstretched towards him for him to take. Feeling increasingly anxious, he was thankful to be told what to do and he stepped forward quickly and took her hand, concentrating on landing them in an empty corridor in the local hospital.

Once there, nurses quickly ushered them to the maternity ward. After Tasha answered their questions and told them the contractions were only a few minutes apart at this point, they put her in a wheelchair and started wheeling her away, directing Cas to the waiting room by the lobby.

"No," Tasha protested. "He's coming with me. I want him with me."

Now Cas only had a working knowledge of human anatomy, but he was well aware where babies exited the body and didn't particularly want to witness two of them popping out of his sort-of-friend. Word of twins had quickly spread and there were quite a few hospital personnel buzzing around them now. Usually that was Cas's cue to slip into the background and disappear but Tasha reached up and grasped his hand.

"You mind sticking around?" she asked him imploringly.

Her face was flushed, her hair was plastered to her sweat-soaked skin, and her eyes pleaded with his. He nodded. "If you want me to," he agreed.

"Dear," one of the nurses frowned. "You can't bring _a man_   into the delivery room! Why don't we call your mother or a sister perhaps? Don't you have a friend we can contact?"

Tasha gritted her teeth. " _Fucking sixties_ ," she muttered. "He's my husband," she told the nurse sternly. "I don't have a mother or a sister. He's all I've got and I want him here."

The nurse glowered at Cas but relented and the angel was practically yanked down the hallway as Tasha winced when another contraction started. The angel tried his hardest to stay out of the way as doctors showed up and nurses buzzed around the bed they had put Tasha in. He tucked himself into the empty floor space next to her pillow and held her hand through what seemed like an endless stream of contractions, each seeming more painful and lasting longer than the last.

He couldn't help but be impressed with the young woman's endurance. He had guessed she was strong and brave, after all she was a hunter and had managed to capture the heart of Dean Winchester, but watching her now gave him a new level of admiration for her resilience. Although he couldn't read her mind due to the Enokian sigils he had carved on her ribs, his angel sense could feel she was in immense pain. He was certain if he had been human she would have crushed the bones in his hand by now, but she fought to keep her cries to a minimum, hissing out a steady stream of whispered curse words instead.

It eventually became evident both the doctors and the nurses were agitated and worried. Tasha's restrained cries of pain had turned into tired, shuddering whimpers and her head lolled from side to side as she struggled to stay awake. Her legs were up in stirrups and Cas could see blood on the gloves of the doctors and nurses working between them. He knew enough to know something was seriously wrong.

"What's going on?" he demanded of the closest doctor, not letting go of the brunette's hand.

"The babies haven't turned," the doctor answered curtly before turning away and shouting an order to fetch something to one of the nurses at the back of the room.

"Cas?" Tasha whispered, trying to focus her fearful eyes on his.

The angel tightened his grasp on her hand encouragingly, never having felt so helpless in all his millennia of existence. If only he still had the power of Heaven; he could fix all this with a touch of his hand.

His worry and confusion must have been evident on his face for one of the younger nurses placed a hand on his arm, smiling at both him and Tasha. "The babies are in the wrong position," she explained sympathetically. "They need to turn around to come out head first. It seems the umbilical chord is wrapped around the first baby's neck too, so we daren't start pulling or… It looks like Dr. Baccus may have to go in surgically."

"Are the babies gonna … be alright?" Tasha managed weakly.

The nurse smiled unconvincingly. "Dr. Baccus is very good," she said simply.

"Fucking … politician … answer," Tasha accused, unable to muster any real sarcasm.

An older nurse stepped forward, ushering the younger one out of the way. "We're going to try one more time to push the first baby out," she announced.

"The other nurse just said that would be dangerous," Cas narrowed his eyes.

"Well surgery would be very dangerous for both the babies and the mother," the woman said bluntly, turning her attention back to the doctor. "It's a last resort."

Cas frowned. He wasn't about to let Tasha or Dean's children suffer any further. It only vaguely occurred to him that his worry and concern was not for the prophecy that could be fulfilled or enforcing Free Will, but simply for the girl on the bed in front of him and the two new lives hanging in the balance. The babies were facing the wrong way. Now that he knew what was wrong, surely … it sounded simple enough.

He reached out and placed a hand gingerly on Tasha's stomach on top of the green hospital garb and drew on his power. It only took him a second and he withdrew the hand quickly, looking up to see the doctor's eyes widen in amazement.

"It's coming!" the doctor exclaimed. "And it's not breached; it's coming!" There was a flurry of activity amoung the hospital staff and amazed whispers of ' _how did it get turned_?', ' _this is so strange_ ', and ' _it's a miracle_!' A few seconds later, Cas heard a small hitch followed by the unmistakable loud wail of a baby. He got a glimpse of a bloody bundle being wrapped and whisked to the other side of the room and heard an excited gasp of " _Oh it's a girl!"_    The doctor's attention quickly went back to the second baby, which was already making an appearance.

Tasha panted and clenched her teeth, her pain and extreme fatigue written all over her face. Cas never once let go of her hand, offering what little comfort he could through her obvious agony. The room was soon filled with another child's cry, this one far quieter then the first and a second bundle was whisked away for inspection and tending.

Tasha's head fell back on the pillow and her hand loosened in his. For a long moment Cas thought she had passed out but her eyes opened when a nurse came over to her with one of the bundles and she struggled to sit up straighter.

"This is your son, Dearie," she smiled at the brunette, holding the baby out for the new mother to see. "Merry Christmas."

"Can I hold him?" Tasha rasped.

The nurse gave her a calculating look, clearly deciding whether or not the girl still had enough strength in her. Tasha straightened slightly and the nurse relented, gently lowering the bundle into Tasha's arms. "Just for a moment," she instructed.

"Do you have names picked out?" she asked, glancing at Cas also.

"Sammy," Tasha said, staring down at the wrinkled form of her son. "Sammy Brian. After his uncle and his grandfather."

"And what about this one?" another nurse cooed, stepping up to Cas and practically shoving the baby girl into his arms, adjusting his stiff hands around it until she seemed confident it was secure and wouldn't be dropped.

"Cassie," Tasha smiled, looking straight at Cas. "I think we'll call that one Cassie. After her guardian angel."

Cas wasn't quite sure what emotion he was feeling, both at the sight and feel of the child in his arms and at the prospect of having it named after him. All he knew was the emotion was strong, almost overwhelmingly so. It was strange and frightening but, surprisingly, he liked it. He glanced over at Tasha who was smiling at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Thank you," she mouthed.

He nodded somberly and looked back down at the baby he was holding. It struck him that although he had just met this tiny human, he felt a deep bond with her - and with the boy child. He has no idea why, but he would die for them, kill for them, and disobey every order ever given to him all over again for the sake of these children. Logic told him it was simply because they were Dean's and he had deep feelings of friendship and respect for Dean. Or maybe it was because he could feel the unguarded love Tasha was directing at them this very moment and the intensity of it was affecting him.

Or maybe he was just discovering what family really meant and finally understood why Dean fought for it so fiercely.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	10. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting CrazyLadyinVegas!  
> Things do get pretty grim in this fic before they get any better so I have to ask for a little faith from the readers, lol. There are still many light moments to come in among the dark and painful. Although it's not a perfect 'happily ever after' ending, it's not a total tragedy either. My main goal in this fic was to show Sam's loyalty and his redemption and to bring the brothers back together after Sam let Lucifer out in the season 4 finale. As for Tasha, her part in the story is far from over as she and Cas continue their adventures in the sixties.... Woodstock :)

 

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Dean drove in silence while Sam checked out Google Earth on his laptop. They were looking for the place where Garth had dropped off the stolen chemical truck but the man had been so scared inside his possessed body that he hadn't taken note of a street address, just a description of the house and the general vicinity.

"I don't see a small wooded lot or a big house with faded blue siding," the younger Winchester griped. "It's a rural area; there aren't street views available yet on this site."

Dean twisted to glance at the angel sitting in the back seat. "You able to help us out on this, Cas?" he asked hopefully.

"Are you saying you need my help again?" Cas asked in a challenging tone, getting an amused chuckle out of Sam and a roll of the eyes from Dean. The angel did, however, disappear for six seconds before reappearing with a smugly satisfied look that didn't go unnoticed by the two humans in the front of the Impala.

"Nineteen seventy-six Route thirty-two," he announced. "Four kilometers west of Greenville. It fits the description Garth gave us."

"Nice job, Cas," Sam acknowledged, his way of apologizing for their earlier teasing. He punched the address into his laptop and instructed Dean to take the next turnoff.

"The demons are all gone," Cas informed them evenly. "The house is empty. It's a dead end."

Both Winchesters groaned in disappointment at the news but Dean took the next turnoff anyway. "We got no other leads to chase down," he shrugged.

The house certainly did match Garth's description, right down to the empty chemical truck parked in the secluded back yard. The hunters armed up with shotguns and salt rounds and went inside but just as Cas had told them, the property was empty.

"We're wasting time here," the angel said impatiently as Sam and Dean wandered through the sparse rooms looking around for a clue as to where the demons had gone or what their plan was. "We need a demon to question."

"Not so fast," Sam told him, grinning triumphantly as he managed to piece together unburned fragments of paper from the ashes in the fireplace. "171 Main Street," he read aloud before his face pulled into a disappointed scowl. "Can't read what city," he groused. "And practically every city on the map has a Main Street."

"Well I say we start with Austin, Texas," Dean said, holding up the cordless phone.

"Last eight numbers dialed in or out are all 512 area code."

"Which is mostly Austin," Sam finished unnecessarily.

"With their mobility being far more restricted than that of angels," Cas commented, "The demons are known to use certain urban locations to congregate and use as bases of operations. With any luck, this address will be one of those places." He looked back and forth between both brothers. "Those were very astute observations," he said with grudged admiration.

Dean snorted. "What, your know-it-all angel senses couldn't have figured that one out?" he teased.

The angel's brow furrowed. "I have told you many times," he said seriously, "Angels are not omnipotent."

A short laugh escaped the elder Winchester. "Whoa Cas," he said, holding a hand in the air. "I really don't need to hear about your bedroom shenanigans."

Now it was Sam's turn to snort. "Dude, he said _omnipotent_ , not _impotent_. It means all-knowing, all-powerful."

"Hmph. Well that's too bad," Dean shrugged as they headed back out towards the Impala. "Coz we could really use some all-knowing right now."

"I _know_   we are going to get your son back," Cas offered seriously, earning himself a grateful nod of genuine appreciation from his friend.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

It was dark by the time they reached Austin and discovered that the address was actually a self-storage facility with about four hundred units. The hunters immediately made the rounds, looking for any signs of demons. Sam found traces of sulfur at the door of one of the largest units and made quick work of the lock. Dean hoisted the garage door upwards and any doubts that this unit had been used by demons vanished the instant their flashlights fell on the altar and the demonic symbols painted on the floor.

All three men moved to step inside but Cas grunted and stopped when he reached the threshold.

"What?" Dean asked sharply, still very aware Sam was playing the game injured. He had been hoping to avoid a confrontation if possible.

"I can't enter," Cas explained. "There are Enokian sigils on all the walls preventing me from coming inside."

"Okay just stay outside then," Dean told him with a shrug, looking inside but not seeing any markings on the walls at all. "Keep a lookout."

He and Sam pressed forward and started searching the boxes and crates stacked up against the far wall. They found what looked like spare parts for some sort of industrial equipment.

"What the Hell do demons want with this stuff?" Sam wondered out loud. "It doesn't seem very supernatural. I mean, what kind of weapon are they making?"

He didn't get a reply from Dean for at that very instant, a woman's sharp cry rang out from somewhere outside. He ran towards the door to look outside, just a step behind his big brother. There was a flash of light off to the side and he turned to see Cas standing over a woman on her knees, the angel's hand planted firmly on her screaming face as orange light flickered beneath her skin.

There were four men – or more accurately, demons – approaching Cas from behind and Sam instinctively lunged forward, his hand reaching for Ruby's blade that was tucked in the back of his jeans. He found himself blocked by his brother's arm, outstretched in front of him and pushing him roughly backwards.

"No, Sam, stay back," Dean ordered, turning just long enough to pull Ruby's knife from the taller hunter's grasp. "You're injured."

"I'm fine," Sam snapped indignantly, shoving Dean's hand out of the way but giving up his grip on the knife. It wasn't the whole truth but there was no way he was being sidelined in this fight, not with these stakes.

Dean didn't back down. He fisted Sam's shirt and yanked him forcefully backwards. "We need a devil's trap," he hissed urgently, locking his eyes on Sam's to get his point across. "To keep one alive!"

With that, Dean lunged forward, swinging Ruby's knife at the closest demon just as Cas threw a powerful angel-punch at another that sent the guy hurtling across the gravel parking lot. Sam wanted to jump in the fray but realized Dean was right. With nothing handy to contain a demon, they would have to kill them all to survive and if they were to find Lucifer and eventually Little Sammy, they needed one for questioning. He raced back inside and grabbed one of the spray cans the demons had used on their altar and started spraying in an empty area of the floor.

Meanwhile, Cas and Dean were doing well despite being outnumbered. Dean finally managed to sink Ruby's knife into the stocky one he had been sparring with and looked up just in time to see Cas use his quickly-draining angel-mojo on his fourth demon, this time simply wrapping his hand around the demon's neck and holding him in place.

The angel threw a quick, questioning look at Dean, who felt a fleeting flood of gratitude that they had one of Heaven's soldiers on their side even if he was an outcast. He didn't have long to spare to the thought, however, before he felt himself being flung through the air by an invisible force. He collided heavily with the wall of the building and slumped to the ground with a groan.

Pulling himself up stiffly, he refocused his eyes to see the tables had turned. Cas was now on the ground being pummeled by a newcomer, a sixth and clearly far more powerful demon. "Cas!" he rasped, pushing himself off the wall and lunging for the demon.

He was intercepted by the one Cas had been intending to capture, a sizable demon that had apparently been freed from the angel's grasp when the newcomer attacked. Dean was still clutching the demon-killing knife and made quick work of him, fueled by both worry for his friend and the prospect of getting his hands on this new higher-ranking demon for questioning.

He tossed aside the illuminated, dying body on the end of his knife and strode towards the ongoing fight - not that it was much of a fight; Cas was basically getting his ass handed to him.

He barely got two steps closer before he was flying through the air again, the demon twisting around towards him with an outstretched hand. His painful second trip into the wall did, however, provide Cas with a small reprieve from the steady stream of blows that were being rained on him – a break just long enough for the angel to muster the strength to shove the demon backwards and send him sprawling on the ground in front of the storage unit doorway. The possessed man was on his feet again in a flash, scowling angrily at the hunter and the angel, both of whom were still on the ground and at his mercy. He took a step towards Dean first, the word "Winchester" dripping off his tongue like it was poison.

"Right here," Sam quipped as he grabbed the man from behind, wrapping a strong, fast forearm around the demon's shoulders and yanking him backwards, tumbling him into the freshly painted devil's trap.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Another scream filled the storage room as Dean drew Ruby's knife slowly across the tied-up demon's collarbone. "Just tell us where Lucifer is and this'll all end," he offered for the umpteenth time, his voice cold and merciless. "Don't make me drag out the holy water again."

When the demon had been successfully trapped, the brothers had dragged all the bodies inside, closed the garage door, and gone right to work on the interrogation. Cas had recovered quickly and was now standing guard outside in case more demons showed up. Sam felt uneasy watching his brother inflict such agonizing pain without even flinching, even if it was to a demon. He knew what he was seeing was but a shadow of what Dean had become in the pit, just a glimpse of how close the hunter had come to losing his soul altogether. _If Cas hadn't pulled him out …_

The younger man shuddered at the thought. He too had crossed that line. He too had lost his perception of right and wrong and his conscience had faded into the background for a time. He remembered torturing a vampire last year in an effort to find a missing Tasha and couldn't recall a single flicker of remorse or even displeasure while doing it. Of course, his undoing had been demon blood and the overwhelming thirst and need for its power running through him where as Dean's had been decades of undeserved pain and unjust torture. Dean held no blame in his lapse – unlike Sam. He knew Dean didn't share his opinion on the matter, but Sam saw no reason Dean should feel the need for atonement or absolution for anything he had done downstairs. Sam, on the other hand, had unleashed the Devil on the world and he had done it of his own free will. The pain and suffering his arrogance and stupidity had yet to inflict on mankind was almost unfathomable. His mistake was unforgivable yet somehow, beyond all reason, it seemed Dean was finding his way to forgiving him

But right now all he could focus on was rescuing his nephew. That single mission, that single purpose, had become the foundation of his redemption. He'd save the world if he could, but he would save Little Sammy at all costs - and he'd do it for Dean.

Another piercing scream rang out and Sam couldn't help but wince at the sharp pain it brought to his ears.

"Whatever you do to me," the demon panted, his narrowed eyes shooting pure hatred at Dean, "Won't make me betray my Father."

There was a soft knock on the garage door and both brothers immediately tensed.

"Dean? Sam?" came Cas's soft, deep voice.

Sam moved to open the door.

"Feel up for a little angel juice then?" Dean taunted the demon.

He got an unimpressed snort for an answer. "He doesn't scare me." The demon locked eyes with Cas as the trench-coated figure was silhouetted in the doorway.

"Scratch one of the symbols from the wall," Cas instructed Sam, returning the demon's hard stare from where he stood.

"Uh … I can't see them," Sam pointed out sheepishly. The symbold were invisible to mere humans.

"There is one three feet above the ground right behind you," Cas replied. "Disfigure it and I will be able to enter."

The demon laughed. "Ooooh, I'm shaking in my boots now!"

"You should be," Sam snapped in the angel's defense. "Trust me, I know first hand how much angel mojo can hurt a demon in a meatsuit."

Cas gave the young hunter a quick, apologetic glance and Sam instantly regretted bringing that incident up. When the demon bitch that had taken Little Sammy had possessed him in an attempt to get her hands on Cassie also, it had been Cas that had stepped in and questioned her before killing her. Sam hadn't been sure if Cas was aware that he had felt every ounce of pain the angel had inflicted on the demon inside him, but the look of guilt made it clear he had. Nevertheless, Sam believed wholeheartedly there was no blame to be laid – Cas had done what was necessary for Little Sammy's sake.

"This isn't an angel," the demon sneered. "This is a traitorous fuck who turned his back on his own kind to help a pathetic, dying race of weaklings. Word is his angel buddies cut him off. He can't get it up anymore. Didn't work on me outside, did it, Castiel?"

Dean sliced the prisoner across the cheek with the knife, an angry scowl on his face. Sam was scraping away at what looked like a blank wall when Cas stepped casually forward, closing the door behind him.

"Why not just tell these two what they want to know?" he suggested calmly.

Sam and Dean couldn't help but notice he looked almost bored as he spoke. Why didn't he try the deep voice thing or flashing his impressively sized wings behind him? Dean had to admit, those things were at least a little bit intimidating.

"I'm not exactly shaking in my boots here, Twinkletoes," the demon laughed.

"You would actually be doing your boss a favor by telling them," Cas continued evenly.

"Huh?" the demon snorted. "How so?"

"You'd be delivering the thing he wants most right to his doorstep."

Sam, Dean, and the demon all gave the angel the same look of confusion.

"I am referring to his vessel," Cas explained, gesturing towards the younger Winchester. "Sam Winchester. Lucifer would no doubt reward you highly if you were to send Sam right to him. Even better, you'd be sending him Michael's vessel also, allowing him to destroy Dean and giving him a huge advantage in the final battle."

Okay, Cas totally had a point there, both Winchesters realized. For a moment, the demon looked like he was starting to see the light also but then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Why are you saying this? What's your catch?"

Cas shrugged tiredly. "No catch. You're right. I betrayed my kind and now I'm stuck with these two as my only allies. I have tried to tell them this is a foolish move and that they will never be able to retrieve the child from Lucifer but …" he looked over at the brothers with a disapproving frown. "But they are stubborn and foolhardy and insist on risking everything for the sake of one child."

The demon's shoulders started to shake with barely suppressed laughter. "You obviously haven't spent much time around humans you feathered moron." He looked back and forth between the Winchesters. "They're not the sharpest tools in the shed. Their feelings make them weak. That's why we will rid the planet of them once and for all. That's why our Father will win. He sees humans for what they really are. He took God's so-called 'greatest creation' and made it better. He created **_us_**. Demons."

"Cut the rhetoric, asshole, and just tell us where Lucifer is," Sam snapped impatiently.

"You really think you can take out Lucifer?" the demon challenged the young hunter. "Your son's gonna tip the scales in our direction and then our Father's gonna rip him to shreds just for being human."

Dean couldn't help himself; he punched the demon in the face. "You're wrong you son of a bitch," he seethed.

"Am I? You're not even a real contender for the win in this war, Winchester. On your side you've got the ex-blood junkie who let Lucifer out if the cage in the first place and a pathetic excuse for an angel who knows you've already lost. Your own team's betting against you."

Dean sliced him on the neck with Ruby's knife, running dangerously close to killing him. He writhed in his bonds and made sickening chortling noises of pain before refocusing his eyes on Dean.

"Maybe I should give you what you want," he panted. "Let Lucifer flay you alive."

"I gotta find him first for him to flay me, asswipe." Dean drew the knife in a slow line across the demon's chest.

"Uggh…hnnn…aghh," the demon screwed up his face in obvious agony. "He's in Louisiana! Somewhere in Louisiana!" he finally blurted. "That's all I know."

Dean's eyes widened and he turned to give Cas and Sam a questioning look, both of whom simply shrugged at him in response.

"Where in Louisiana?" Dean pressed.

"I don't know," the demon answered with a shake of the head. "He moves around a lot. We each get a job to do and that's all we're told. Only a few of the VIP's actually get face time with him."

"And lemme guess," Dean said snidely. "You're not that important."

The demon shrugged unapologetically. "I fly coach," he admitted.

"I'm afraid you're flying days are over," the hunter said coldly, raising Ruby's knife.

"Then I'll see you in hell, Dean," the demon spat, the rumble of an oncoming laugh echoing from his gut.

"I don't think so," Dean replied, plunging the blade hilt-deep into his prisoner's stomach. "Been there; done that."

He straightened up and wiped the blood off the blade with the dead man's shirt before handing it back to Sam. "Let's go," he said, pulling the garage door open and stepping outside.

Sam and Cas nodded and followed him wordlessly, pausing as he closed the garage behind them to hide the six dead bodies. It occurred to all three of them that some wild headlines would be made when the corpses started to stink.

But they were all wrong about that. By the time the bodies were found, nobody would care.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

The Impala purred her way towards Louisiana, chewing up the tarmac at a rate well above the limit as if determined to do her own part in retrieving the missing member of her family. The men in the car rode in silence for almost half an hour before Sam finally spoke up.

"So Cas," he addressed the figure in the back seat. "What you said back there – did you really mean all that? Do you think we have no chance?"

Cas gave him a solemn look. "It goes without saying the odds are against us."

"Do you feel like you're stuck with us then?" Dean asked, figuring he may as well voice what had been going through his mind since Sam had already started the girly talk.

"Of course not," Cas said sincerely. "I believe you are in the right. Lucifer would see the earth destroyed and Michael is not acting under our Father's orders." He shook his head and gazed out the window at the night countryside. "I do not regret my choice to disobey my superiors."

"So you were just bluffing back there?" Dean couldn't hide the relief from his voice.

"Yes."

Dean grinned, catching the angel's blue eyes in the rear view mirror. "Well, I gotta tell ya Cas, you've gotten a lot better at that."

"I have been cut off from Heaven for five years now," Cas shrugged.

"That's right," Dean exhaled, nodding his head in realization. "I keep forgetting that." He turned to glance over his shoulder, raising a curious eyebrow at his friend. "So, you get laid yet?"

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_April 1968…_ **

Cas spent a great deal more time than before at Dorothy's house in Philadelphia during the months after the children were born. Tasha seemed to have dropped whatever remnants of resentment she had still been carrying over the angel's supposed neglect of Dean's emotional suffering in the past year and didn't seem to blame him anymore for the circumstances keeping her apart from the hunter. In fact, Cas admitted, she had become quite friendly towards him and genuinely seemed to enjoy his presence. He was growing increasingly fond of her in return and found her ability to enjoy long, comfortable silences together quite endearing. He had found it difficult to spend any great lengths of time with most humans because they inevitably felt a need to fill any silences with idle chatter or useless conversation, preventing the angel from enjoying time of inward reflection. In her youth, Tasha had spent much time in solitude and with Dorothy and the babies always present, it seemed she was now grateful for rare moments of peace and quiet.

The young brunette was an inexperienced mother and although he didn't ever doubt her love and devotion to the children, Cas was glad for Dorothy's help. The older woman gave Tasha endless advice on how to properly care for the twins; how to nurse, how to bathe them, what creams and powders to apply to their skin, when to use a bottle, how to get them to sleep when restless… The angel had mostly stayed out of the day-to-day tending of the infants' physical needs but Tasha, in one of her impatient and frustrated moods one day, had called him into the nursery and demanded he zap "the freaking disgusting orange poop" out of the diaper and into the toilet. Not wanting her mood to worsen, he had quickly obliged. Her face lit up with awe and realization and ever since, he had been delegated all 'diaper duty'.

He found himself popping into the nursery most nights to stand silently for hours, lost in his own thoughts as he watched the babies sleep. He was surprised at the extent to which he was drawn to them and how protective he felt over them. He would lay a finger on their foreheads and gently lull them back to sleep if they awoke on those nights when he could see their young mother needed some rest. Even he could see that caring for two babies could be exhausting for a human.

When the babies were four months old, Tasha finally brought up the subject of returning to her own time.

"When we go back, will they be in danger?" she asked suddenly one evening as she sat on the couch watching Adam West and Burt Ward duke it out with the Joker on the black and white television.

"Of course," he replied honestly from where he sat on the chair. "Lucifer and his demons will want to kill them both and Michael will try to take them to keep that from happening."

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. "They're so helpless, Cas," she breathed. "I just couldn't take it if something happened to them. I know we have to go back and I know Dean should be with his own kids but…" She let the sentence trail off.

"The children are safer here," Cas said truthfully. "Keeping them safe in 2009 will not be easy."

"Maybe we could wait just a little longer," she said, avoiding eye contact with him. Cas could only guess this was out of guilt for suggesting they keep Dean's children from him.

"I think that would be wise," he told her with a nod. "Though I must resume my search for God. I have a much better chance of finding him here in this time than in the future and I have been lax in my efforts since the twins were born." He gave her a steady look, noting the conflicted emotions on her face. "Dean would want what is safest for his children," he said evenly.

"Children need their father, Cas," she told him with a guilty look. "But I just can't stomach the thought of putting them in danger. I just can't make myself take them back there, even though I want to go back more than anything." She ran her hand down over her face. "Fuck, now I get what my dad went through," she breathed. "I used to feel guilty that he lived the way he did just to protect me, that he spent his life running when it wasn't him Diego was after. I always thought he could have just walked away. Now I  
understand how he felt. Walking away was never an option."

There was a sudden knock at the door and the brunette tensed as she sprang to her feet. Cas furrowed his brow and flashed his way into a standing position between Tasha and the door. "It is Maureen Bolder," he informed her.

"The woman from down the block who totally has the hots for you?" Tasha questioned, raising a curious eyebrow. When he didn't make any move towards the door she rolled her eyes. "Well, go see what she wants." She gave him a shove towards the door.

"She does not want anything from me," Cas answered, not quite sure what Tasha meant by _'got the hots'_. "She caught me outside yesterday and told me she was having a party tonight and that we should go. I declined."

Tasha snorted. "Well, she's persistent; I'll give her that. I've seen the way she looks at you. Listen Cas," she grinned. "You're a ... reasonably good-looking guy with needs. I'm not gonna hold it against you if you wanna get some."

Cas frowned, realizing what she was referring to. "She has a husband," he pointed out.

"That creep?" she refuted with a sneer. "He bangs anything with breasts."

"I don't need to _'get some'_ ," he insisted, feeling slightly flushed.

"Trust me," she laughed. "You do." She strode over towards the door. "We're going to her party," she told him firmly. "Dorothy can look after the babies for a couple of hours." She paused and turned to face him. "Just do me a favor and be subtle about it, kay?" she added with a sheepish look. "We _are_ supposedly married and I do have _some_   pride."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**_Present ..._ **

They moved around Louisiana for the next week, following every lead or even hint of a lead that the brothers, Cas, or Bobby could dig up in hopes that it would somehow point to Lucifer.

No luck.

Sam was aware of the hope fading in his brother with every passing day and could see the heartache and pain taking a hold of him. The dark circles Dean's his eyes grew darker and his restless attempts at sleep were soon forsaken altogether. It was heartbreaking to watch and the feeling of complete helplessness and inability to bring any relief to Dean was tearing Sam apart inside.

On the outside, however, he managed to stay strong for his bother. He was determined to be there for Dean in any way that he could, in part to make up for all he had done wrong last year but in part because Dean had always been there for him. Sam _was_ going to get Little Sammy back. Dean _was_ going to live a peaceful life raising his two wonderful kids. This _was_ going to be over soon.

Cas was off doing his own thing and the brothers were on the way to check out a lead in Baton Rouge. Sam was behind the wheel this time and Dean sat in the passenger side getting the scoop from Bobby on the phone. Apparently ten bodies had been found in a clearing in the woods with supposed satanic symbols burned into the nearby tree trunks. In hunts from their younger days, the 'satanic' connection had almost always been a hoax or a misunderstood witch thing but these days, since they were indeed searching for Satan himself, it was a promising-sounding lead even without the significant body count.

Dean had the older hunter on speakerphone and Bobby was explaining that he had moved his operations back into his house, insisting he had stepped up the demon-proofing and angel-proofing on his property. " _They don't want me anyhow_ ," he argued against Dean's voiced disapproval of the decision. " _I'm just a useless old fart in a wheelchair._ "

"You're not old," Sam teased, trying unsuccessfully to get half a smile out of his brother.

" _I'm young enough to beat a side of respect outta you yet boy and don't you go forgetting it_ ," Bobby fired back, his gruff smile at the banter somehow apparent right through the phone. " _So how you boys holding up anyways_?" he asked, his tone softening.

"We're fine," Dean said quickly. Too quickly.

" _You been getting any sleep_?"

Dean fired an annoyed look of betrayal at Sam, the obvious blabbermouth.

"Yeah, I'm good," Dean lied. "Just woke up half an hour ago, in fact. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed so you and Sam can stop your mothering."

" _Don't you piss on my leg and tell me it's rainin'_ ," Bobby groused, clearly not convinced. " _Just take care of yerselves okay? Yer no good to yer boy if you drop dead from exhaustion._ "

"I'll take a nap when I find him," Dean said quietly.

" _Well, you'll be happy to hear I had a long conversation with the other of yer offspring this mornin'._ "

"Cassie?" Dean's face brightened slightly. He hadn't been able to bring himself to call his daughter since he had left her with Ellen and Jo, determined to find Sammy first so he could give her good news. "What was she saying?"

" _She's a chatty lil gal, that's fer sure_ ," Bobby commented. " _She sure does think the sun shines outta your ass, Dean. Told me her daddy was off saving the world. Then she kept going on about Ellen's Star Trek phone._ " The older man chuckled into the receiver at the other end of the line. " _I remember the sixties,_ " he laughed. " _I woulda thought a cell phone was pretty groovy too_."

Sam was heartened to see a small smile reach Dean's face as Bobby continued to recount his earlier conversation with the feisty four year old. Bobby must have known the effect it would have on the near-broken young father because he relayed every detail of the conversation in great length, referring to himself as Grandpa Bobby every chance he got. Sam's lips curled into a smile also as he listened to the gruff South Dakota drawl and he couldn't help but sigh with gratitude they had Bobby in their lives.

" _Then she tells me that the lady next door says… what in the … well I'll be damned ... that can't be good…"_

"What?" both brothers demanded, not liking the tone of Bobby's voice when he had veered off his story.

"Bobby, what's going on?" Dean added, his voice worried.

" _Oh Balls."_

They heard a gasp and a few coughs and a strangled wheeze of pain before there was an ominous thud followed by silence.

"Bobby?" Dean shouted into the phone. There was no response. "Bobby? Bobby! BOBBY!"

He looked over at Sam, his eyes wide with fear. "Oh shit," he wheezed. "What happened to him?"

Sam's heart was beating wildly with dread. "I don't know," he stammered. "Call Cas."

Dean nodded at the suggestion and dialed the number of the cell phone he had given the angel. "Straight to friggin' voicemail," he groused. "Damn nerd needs to learn how to charge a battery!"

"Call that hunter who lives in Rapid City," Sam proposed anxiously.

"That's four hours away!" Dean exclaimed, his voice sharpening with near panic.

"Shit," Sam's head was spinning. "Okay, call the police. The police in Sioux Falls." Both brothers knew Bobby would likely kill them himself for calling the cops to his house if this was a false alarm but fear _for_   the older man was currently trumping fear _of_   him right now.

Dean dialed the operator and asked to be put through to emergency services in Sioux Falls. He kept getting a busy signal and was shouting into the phone at the local operator when Sam raised his voice to shush him, reaching for the Impala's radio dial and turning it up so the news broadcast was blaring through the speakers. The reporter's voice was bordering on panic.

_"…we don't have any idea exactly what is happening or what the casualties could number at this moment. Reports are coming in from all over the country. All we know is that a thick dark cloud has suddenly appeared over parts of South Dakota, Minnesota, and Iowa. My God, I can't believe this is happening! Witnesses anywhere the cloud has appeared have described people dropping to the ground, dead within seconds. None of these reports can be confirmed because the witnesses themselves seem to be dying as they're speaking. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I don't ... It seems pretty likely at this point that this is a terrorist attack and that it will make September eleventh pale in comparison. We don't know if the cloud is moving or spreading or what's happening. Things are … are … I don't even know what to say here. We're under attack and it seems we may have as many as three States wiped out. Gone. Millions of people … **dead**."_

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	11. Expect the Unexpected

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

The Winchesters were still two hours out of Baton Rouge when the shocking news had floated out of the Impala's speakers and crushed them. They listened in stunned silence until they passed a cagey-looking motel and Dean swerved into the parking lot, stepping out of the car and striding into the registration office without saying a word. He came back out a moment later waving a key and pointing towards nearby room number two. Within thirty seconds, the pair was perched on the edges of the beds, eyes glued to the TV screen and hearts twisting further in pain with every new report that was broadcast. It was frustrating beyond belief to be so far away and to be so completely helpless against this attack, unable to save Bobby or anyone else.

Neither of them moved for the next three hours except to occasionally pace back and forth as they phoned any and every person they knew trying to get information … _any_   information. Dean's first call was to Ellen, seeking reassurance that she and Jo and, most of all, Cassie were fine and far from the area where the black smoke had been reported. Ellen assured them they were still safe and sound at the hunter's cabin in Tennessee and promised to stay bunkered down with gas masks on the ready until this thing blew over.

The story unfolded much like any modern disaster of epic proportions did, with bits and pieces of reports and videos trickling in and reporters and so-called experts spouting as much misinformation and conjecture as accurate facts. But eventually the stories began to sync and truth was separated from fiction to reveal that a huge black cloud had suddenly appeared over an area of about two hundred thousand square miles. People in the area had simply dropped dead within seconds. The cloud was now gone but the President had declared a State of Emergency across the country and the military had all been mobilized, mostly deployed to the area already being dubbed the 'dead zone' in full armor and hazmat suits. It was strongly believed there were no survivors and there was an underlying panic in the voices of every reporter at the new level of terrorism the country was suddenly facing.

Sam watched Dean's last reserves of strength fade away during the hours watching the story unfold, hope for the man they loved as a father dwindling with every new report. The younger Winchester was barely keeping his own composure and he could see the strain of fighting back tears sending the occasional quiver through his brother's cheeks.

A map of the US appeared on the screen with a large red circle digitally overlaid on the affected area and both hunters gasped audibly at the sight.

"You seeing what I'm seeing?" Dean breathed.

"If you mean that dead center of that circle is Sioux Falls then yeah," Sam replied. "Think they were targeting Bobby?"

"There's easier ways to kill an old man in a wheelchair," Dean pointed out. "And why would they target him anyway?" His voice cut out sharply at end of sentence, already knowing the answer.

Sam just nodded. There was no need to say it out loud. Bobby wasn't the target - the Winchester were _._ They had just killed their closest friend and ally, not to mention about two million other people.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Drained and defeated, the brothers finally switched off the TV and left the motel, sinking tiredly back into the seats of the Impala. They both admitted to themselves that there was nothing more they could do for Bobby. The gruff but loveable mechanic had paid the ultimate price for being their friend but Little Sammy was still in the clutches of the Devil and both brothers still felt a deep, driving need to get him back. Despite Sam's better judgment, he let Dean drive, not having the heart at this point to argue with his stubborn brother.

As far as Sam could figure, there were two possible scenarios for what had happened. The first was that Lucifer had taken out Bobby in an attempt to anger the Winchesters, hoping they would step up to the plate and allow Michael and him to finish this fight, or perhaps just to remove one of their allies. The second scenario was far more devastating. It was possible that Lucifer had thought the Winchesters were at or near Bobby's. Assuming he thought Cassie was still with them, this meant he didn't care whether or not he killed her which implied he knew she wouldn't help him defeat Michael.

Which meant he knew Little Sammy wasn't Sam's son.

Sam was fairly certain Dean had processed the same logic but neither brother voiced these concerns out loud. Instead they simply willed themselves to get back on the road to Louisiana, towards the lead Bobby had dug up of the ten people killed with satanic symbols carved in all the surrounding trees. They hadn't heard from Cas since news of the incident broke, despite leaving him several voicemails and both were starting to worry about the angel's well-being.

The crime scene in Louisiana was almost three days old now so a single guard snoring in a cruiser at the end of the dirt road was the only obstacle to getting a peek of their own. They found a hundred tiny white evidence flags peppering the grassy clearing but ignored them, moving immediately to study the markings on the trees. Dean slapped at the bugs feasting on him and swore under his breath as he tried to make sense of the unfamiliar sigils.

"I've seen these symbols before," Sam announced finally, staring intently at the tree trunk in front of him. "I recognize this one," he tapped the tree with his finger, "And those two over there too," he added pointing across the clearing. "They're all from The Book of Vighatakarine."

"The Viga-what?"

"Vighatakarine," Sam repeated, his brow creasing in concentration. "It's a pretty obscure book of Hindu rites and prayers."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Geek," he muttered fondly under his breath. "So what do they mean?"

"Well this one means on or near water," Sam informed him, ignoring the familiar jab. "And I think those two over there mean place of the dead and something else to do with the dead."

Dean remained silent, letting his wiz-kid brother work his magic.

"But this one," Sam continued, stepping over to another tree, "This one's Roman Catholic. I think it's a crude version of the logo for the Roman Catholic Diocese of Baton Rouge."

"What makes you think that?" Dean encouraged. Sam's Mary-Poppins-Bag of a brain still never ceased to amaze him.

"Well, the RCDBR underneath, for one," he younger hunter said wryly. "And there's a cross with RIP written underneath it."

"So that one doesn't match the rest," Dean thought out loud. "So either whatever killed the ten people messed up its tree tagging or these symbols are a message of some kind."

Sam nodded slowly. "Yep," he acknowledged. "One only a hunter would be able to properly decipher."

"Not just any hunter," Dean muttered, suddenly afraid and hopeful at the same time. Could this be a message left for his brother? Dean would be the first to admit he never would have been able to make any sense of the symbols without a week of tedious online research or a phone call to Bobby. Did that mean Lucifer was setting a trap for them? A trap for Sam? Granted they were trying to find the asshole but Dean had wanted to confront him on their terms, not his.

Sam, on the other hand was looking excited. He looked back at the Catholic symbol. "And this one is the message. It's referring to a Roman Catholic cemetery."

"There could be fifty of them in town," Dean groaned, disheartened. They didn't have time to search every cemetery when they didn't even know what they were looking for.

"No but these other symbols could be narrowing it down," Sam said absently, wandering around the trees studying the Hindu symbols and taking pictures with his cell phone.

Back at the car it took him a total of fifteen minutes online to determine that the symbols were pointing towards Highland Cemetery on the Mississippi flood plain just south of Baton Rouge. Dean pulled over down the street from the cemetery gates twenty minutes later just as the sun disappeared below the horizon. They loaded up with shotguns, salt rounds and holy water, neither mentioning the fact that none of these things would be of any use against Lucifer.

They climbed the stone wall effortlessly and dropped down on the other side. After having only gone a few yards, three men stepped out from the cover of some trees and fanned out around them, their eyes flashing black even in the faded light. Sam drew Ruby's knife and Dean waved the shotgun at the group.

"One more step and things get ugly," Dean warned, pumping his 10-gauge noisily.

"Oh come now, lovies," came a snide voice from behind them with a thick English accent. "No need to be unfriendly."

Both brothers spun around to see a man in a dark coat smirking at them. He waved his hand and the shotgun flew from Dean's hands.

_Shit, he had the mojo._

"You haven't seen unfriendly yet," Dean challenged, pressing his back to Sam's in a defensive position as they were now virtually surrounded.

The man chuckled and shook his head, showing no sign of worry. "You two are hard to flag down," he clucked in apparent disapproval. "I heard you were in Louisiana so I came right down here. And I hate Louisiana," he frowned. "All their burnt catfish and cheap wine. No appreciation for a good whiskey. Anyway, here I am, practically sending up a signal flare for you, and it still takes three days to finally get some face time. You certainly took your sweet time getting here. I had to kill two other hunters who beat you to the punch and I hate having to kill people without sealing a deal first."

Though they weren't sure what he meant by the last part, both Winchesters narrowed their eyes at the demon's admission. Two more deaths on their heads. On top of that, this was a trap after all and they had walked right into it.

"You one of Lucifer's cronies?" Sam seethed, ignoring the three demon lackeys behind him and focusing his attention squarely on the English prick, clearly the leader.

"Me? Certainly not. I resent the insinuation. I've got my own gig going." He stepped towards them slowly. "I'm in the importing-exporting business."

"And what do you 'port'?" Dean asked, glancing nervously at the demons flanking him and Sam.

The demon laughed. "Well, souls of course. Human souls. Granted, I do more exporting to Hell than bringing them back, but…" He looked back and forth between the brothers. "I'm sorry," he said. "Where are my manners? I've neglected to introduce myself. Name's Crowley. King of the Crossroads. But you two Neanderthals can just call me the best thing to ever happen to you."

"And why would we do that?" Dean challenged.

"Because I'm going to give you what you need to defeat Lucifer," Crowley said matter-of-factly. He reached into his jacket and pulled out an old antique revolver.

"The Colt!" Sam exclaimed, unable to help himself.

"What's the catch?" Dean asked immediately, not daring to believe this stroke of luck. "Why would you help us?"

Crowley sighed. "Like I said," he explained, "I have my own gig going. Actually, it was going quite well and I had big plans," he grinned devilishly, " _Really_   big plans. But then the glorious Morning Star himself comes topside and puts a kink in it all."

"Are you saying you're gonna give us the Colt to ice the Devil?" Dean demanded, not hiding the skepticism in his voice.

"In a nutshell, yes," Crowley shrugged.

"Why?" Sam questioned.

"If you must know, I have a cushy life here and I don't want some freaking angel mucking it up."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, nice digs," he quipped, looking around the old cemetery.

Crowley smirked at him. "You'd get drool on my exquisite Armissian rug if I ever let you anywhere near my house," he gloated. "I make Bill Gates look like a Pauper. I buy a new yacht when my old one gets wet. Maybe someday you'll work your way up to blue collar and then you and I can have a remotely civilized conversation."

Dean just snorted again. "How do we know it's the real one?" he changed the subject, nodding at the Colt in Crowley's hands.

The demon shrugged and pointed the gun at the demon closest to Sam and fired. The demon clutched his stomach and lights flashed behind his skin before he slumped to the ground dead.

Crowley shrugged. "Never really trusted him anyway," he said flippantly.

"Why not just shoot the Devil yourself?" Sam pressed. "Why leave it to us to do?"

"Plausible deniability, Bullwinkle. It's no secret you two morons want Luci's head on a pigpole. You try and muck it up and nobody's the wiser. If I try and don't succeed…well, that wouldn't bode so well for me now, would it?"

"OK, so you're a coward," Dean snapped. "We get it. We'll do the dirty work."

"I'm giving you a fighting chance here," Crowley snarled. "You could at least show a little gratitude. I mean, what were you planning to do? What's the point of kicking down the Devil's back door if you don't have anything to hit him with?  What exactly _was_   your plan?  Walk up and politely ask for your son back?"

He had directed the last question at Sam, igniting a small spark of hope within both brothers that Lucifer and his minions still didn't know Little Sammy's true parentage.

Dean threw his brother a hopeful glance and turned back to Crowley, extending his hand. "Fine, just hand it over then.'

Crowley emptied the bullets out of the gun and tossed it to the hunter. He pulled a bag from his coat pocket and shook it before dropping the extra bullets inside, where they clinked against the ones already in there. "You'll need bullets," he crowed, tossing it to Sam.

"Well, I'll be off then," he said simply after an almost awkward pause.

"Wait!" Dean called, hesitating for a second before continuing. "Why did Lucifer do what he did?" he asked. "The black cloud?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Crowley asked back, a smug grin appearing on his face. "While Michael might be happy to twiddle his thumbs and wait you two stubborn bastards out, Ol' Luci's been locked in a cage for millennia and he's just chomping at the bit to duke it out with the big brother that put him there. Subtlty's not really his game. He wants you boys to suit up and get in the ring and if he wants to send you a message, trust me, you get the message."

"But what if we'd have been in the area?" Dean fished. "He could have killed us. He doesn't want Sam dead."

"Oh, it's a good thing you've got your looks," Crowley rolled his eyes. "If he kills you, moron, he finds you. Think he can't bring you back? He's not a little fish like your tag-along angel dropout - Castiel, is it? This is Lucifer we're talking about. And don't think he's finished yet. He's just warming up."

"But what if Cassie had been there?" Sam interjected quickly, predicting Dean's next question and not wanting the demon to see his brother's obvious parental worry for the little Winchester girl. The demons may yet believe she was Sam's daughter. "He may need her," he pointed out. "She may be the child."

"Pah!" Crowley waved a dismissive hand in front of his face. "He's got one kid so he's got a fifty-fifty shot at it being the right one. Besides, he despises being held at the mercy of a human, especially a scruffy tot like yours," he said to Sam. "He thinks he can take down Michael with or without the kid."

"Scruffy?" Dean pounced on that comment. "Why do you say scruffy? Have you seen him?" Little Sammy did have longish hair, which was apparently the style in the early seventies, and scruffy was a very specific adjective to use.

"I got a glimpse when they were here," was the reply.

"Was he okay?" Dean wasn't able to keep the eager question from tumbling out.

Crowley curled his lip in apparent distaste. "He's a rugrat. He was breathing."

"So they were here?" Sam pressed.

"Emphasis on _were_ ," was the quick reply.

"So where's he now?"

"Off stirring his brew I presume. Like I said, he's just getting started." The demon chuckled. "Wait 'til you see his next surprise. And after that … well, you remember River Grove, don't you? Of course, it won't affect you two, but everyone who's NOT an angel vessel will have a very bad year."

Sam was startled by the revelation. He would never forget River Grove, the town where the demons had infected the townspeople with the Croatoan virus and he had discovered that he was immune, that he was a freak and that his father had known all along. "Are you saying I wasn't affected because I'm a vessel?"

"Well it wasn't because you ate your Wheaties."

"That means Dean's immune as well?"

The demon let out an annoyed-sounding sigh. "Vegas money would say yes. Now listen, enough with the chit chat. I'm not here to catch you ladies up on the latest gossip, just to point you in the right direction."

"And what direction is that?" Dean demanded eagerly. "Where's Lucifer?"

"Oh come now, Bright Eyes. Do I have to do all your work for you? It's not like there's a locator spell that can find an angel and Luci keeps his whereabouts in the need-to-know category."

"So you don't know?" Sam snapped, again moving subtly closer to his brother. Sam had the bullets and Dean had the gun. If they could keep this prick talking long enough, keep him distracted, maybe they could put the two together and take him out.

"No, but I can find one of his closest; his personal assistant, if you will. I can find Eramesh."

"Eramesh?" Dean repeated.

"Clean the muck out of your ears, Dean. Yes, Eramesh. I believe you lot are already acquainted. She's Azazel's daughter."

"Meg?" Sam and Dean exclaimed in unison.

"Meg, Eramesh, Sluts-R-Us; whatever she's going by these days, she's one of Luci's favored few on account of her yellow-eyed Pops jumpstarting this whole thing."

"So how do we find her?" Sam seethed through clenched teeth. He had a major axe to grind with the demon who had possessed him and made him shoot Dean only to return two years later and land Bobby in a wheelchair.

"Easy. She's in New York." With that he vanished, leaving a very nervous-looking pair of demons eyeing the knife in Sam's hand warily.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**August 16, 1969…** _

"Come on Cas, pleeease?"

Cas shuffled uncomfortably as she looked up at him, her brown eyes beseeching. "It doesn't seem wise," he stammered. "Why do you want to go?"

"I just wanna get out of the house," she pleaded. "Get out of Philly and this crap-ass subdivision. Please Cas. You know, I haven't killed anything bigger than a cockroach in over two years."

"You miss killing things?" he asked in mild surprise.

"No, of course not" she answered him. "But I miss doing things, helping people, fighting the good fight, all that crap. But that's not the point. See, I've been up to my eyeballs in poop and babyspit for a year and a half and I just want _one_ _day_   of grown-up time. Let's go have some fun. Don't you _ever_   want to have some fun?"

"I went to that party with you," he reminded her. "At Maureen Bolder's house. It was you who insisted we leave after only half an hour simply because they asked for my car keys."

"Okay first off, that was over a year ago," she argued. "And secondly, they were asking for every guy's car keys, Cas. They were putting them in a bowl, remember? I thought I had explained this - it was a swinger's party."

"You did," Cas frowned. "I just … swingers?" He gave her a sheepish look. She had told him that much at the time but he hadn't understood what it meant. He had later asked Dorothy and she had told him swing was simply a type of music.

A huge grin spread over the brunette's face. "You don't know what a swinger's party is, do you?" she asked him.

Embarrassed though not sure why, Cas shook his head.

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "Well, if you take me to this party, I promise I'll explain why I wasn't about to stay at Maureen Bolder's."  She smiled at him encouragingly. "Besides," she added, "It's freaking WOODSTOCK! This is the opportunity of a lifetime – well, more like the opportunity of someone else's lifetime – but I can't _not_   go. Please Cas? Do it for me?"

Her lips puckered into a pout and her eyes continued to beg. Cas wasn't sure why, but he found it strangely difficult to resist giving into her when she acted this way. He had heard Dean say human females were far more manipulative than men and that they would use 'whatever God gave them' to get their way but the angel hadn't really understood that either and still couldn't quite pinpoint why he was more apt to give Tasha her way than he was if it had been, for example, Sam asking him the same favor.

"We cannot both go," he argued feebly, knowing he had already given in. "What if the angels or demons find the children while we are gone?"

"Cas, they don't know we're here. If they did, they woulda shown up already. The kids will be fine with Dorothy and I already asked Gunter to come over and help. We'll be back by morning."

"Fine," he relented with a sigh. "Where is this Woodstock party?"

"On a farm near Bethel, New York," she answered excitedly, grabbing his arm in readiness for the angel-travel. "You won't be able to miss it; there's like a half a million people there. Just get us really close to the stage, ok?"

Cas nodded and concentrated on taking them there. They appeared in the midst of a thick crowd right in front of the stage, eliciting a few cries of 'whoa man!' and 'where the Hell did you come from?' but most of the people were too enthralled in what was happening onstage to even notice. The man right next to Cas just gave him a goofy grin and stared at him with glazed-over eyes. The ground was very muddy and people had obviously fallen because they had the mud caked over their bodies as they swayed to the music. Many women were completely topless or wearing nothing but their undergarments and Cas hoped suddenly that Tasha would not join them. That could make things around the house very awkward afterwards.

The angel frowned with unease at the crushing pressure of the crowd and extended his arm protectively around the brunette, who was now screaming with delight at the long-haired men on stage making the excruciatingly unpleasant noises with their instruments.

"Oh my God, Cas, it's Santana!" she yelled in his ear, jumping up and down. He couldn't help but smile at her excitement and quickly decided that he could put up with the noise for a little while for her sake. There air was thick with a sweet-smelling smoke and Cas soon found himself feeling slightly strange. He was barely aware that after about an hour, he had actually started swaying his shoulders with the crowd.

They were there for hours. Every time Cas thought the show was finally over, an new, louder band seemed to take the stage. Tasha danced and screamed her way through the Grateful Dead and laughed at Cas's comment that perhaps his ears would be 'grateful' if these men were actually 'dead'. He had meant it in all seriousness but was pleased to see he had apparently made a joke. The brunette was usually laughing _at_   him rather than _with_   him and most of the time he didn't know what it was he had said or done that she found so amusing. In recent months she always followed it up with a 'dude, I just love you' or 'Cas, you're the sweetest' which worked to eliminate any humiliation, but he was still pleased whenever he was able to make a real joke, even unintentionally.

A band Tasha informed him were called Credence Clearwater Revival came on and the crowd once again went wild. The sweet-smelling cloud of smoke continuously surrounding the man next to him was noticeably affecting Cas's senses and he began to feel lightheaded. "Tasha," he said gravely, "I believe my wits are being compromised by the cigarette this man is smoking."

Once again she laughed. "Cas, that's weed. It's supposed to compromise your wits. Don't worry. If you blab anything you shouldn't, it won't matter coz everybody will just think you're tripping." She looked at him intently for a moment. "Wait a minute," she said. "I've seen you suck back six beers at a barbeque and you don't feel a thing. Are you saying angels can get stoned?"

"I don't know," Cas said uncomfortably. He felt like his vessel's heart was beating way too fast in his chest. "It would appear so."

"You okay?" she asked, her face suddenly serious.

"I think we should go," he admitted. "This music is unpleasant and loud and there is a half-naked woman behind me who keeps grabbing me."

Tasha gave him a playful nudge on the shoulder. "Dude, she's just sharing the love. This is hippie-central. Besides, you don't exactly blend in standing there all stiff in your suit and trench coat. Look, Janis Joplin is next and then just a couple more before the Who and Jefferson Airplane come on. We can't leave yet."

He sighed and pulled his face unknowingly into a pout. "Very well," he groaned.

"Aw Cas, I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "You're not having any fun, are you?  Listen, why don't you go over there to where all those tents are and wait for me there? It'll be quieter and there'll probably be less weed."

He looked around disapprovingly. "This crowd is dense," he told her. "It could get dangerous for one with your small stature."

She chuckled playfully. "Cas, there is no crowd crushing. This gig already happened, remember? Nobody got squashed in the crowd at Woodstock so I'm safe. You head on over there and I'll meet you in front of that big orange tent when Jefferson Airplane finish. I'm gonna need you to zap me backstage afterwards." She raised her eyebrows at him when he didn't move. "Please. You know I'm just gonna feel guilty if you stand next to me all night looking miserable."

"Very well," Cas agreed and winged himself out of there.

"Oh far out!" the topless woman who had been behind him squealed. "I was just about to goose him when he disappeared!"

Tasha laughed and turned back to the stage just as CCR broke into the opening riffs of Proud Mary, erasing all memory of the disappearing man in the trench coat from the minds of the small cluster of people around him.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	12. One for the Good Guys

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Louisiana to New York was a long drive but the brothers didn't made any pitstops except for food and gas. It was mostly Dean behind the wheel, staring ahead at the endless stretches of highway with no expression on his face and Sam couldn't help but notice his brother seemed to have lost most of his fight, his determination. _No_ , he realized as he subtly studied Dean's weary profile, _he'd lost his hope_. Despite the fact that they had just been given an ace in the hole, the Colt, his brother seemed to be barely holding it together. Dean had taken many hits in the past few years - Dad dying, Sam dying, suffering through Hell, Adam dying, Sam betraying him for Ruby - but the past week had packed a lifetime of loss into a few days. Tasha, Little Sammy, now Bobby. His brother was on autopilot and Sam found himself praying that Dean could hold it together long enough to get his son back. He was sure that Sammy and Cassie could return some happiness to Dean's life... eventually.

"Hey Dean?" he ventured, breaking a four hundred mile silence. "We'll find him.  I mean, I know they're your kids but I love them like they were my own."

Dean's head swiveled towards him, his hazel-green eyes still full of hurt and grief. "I know that Sam," he answered softly.

"It's just that kids aren't an option for me," Sam continued, feeling the need to get this out, "but that doesn't really matter now because I can have that through you."

Frown lines formed in the elder brother's forehead. "What do you mean not an option?"

"Demon blood, remember?" Sam elaborated. "I'm not gonna pass that on down to a new generation." Dean opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but Sam cut him off. "Look, at least one of us gets the chance to have a normal life, a life outside hunting," he said. "You'll be an awesome dad, Dean. I mean, you were more of a dad to me growing up than Dad ever was. Any redeeming qualities I have are thanks to you and I'm really sorry I took you for granted all these years."

Dean remained silent, much as Sam had expected him to. This kind of talk and praise made his brother uncomfortable at the best of times.

"Sure, you're kind of a dick and you have some disgusting habits," Sam added in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Like leaving your dirty socks in the sink and the whole cutting of the toenails on your bed thing…" Sam didn't get the sought-after smirk and quickly gave up, sighing deeply. "What I'm trying to say is that I look up to you Dean; more than anyone," he admitted. "I fucked up so royally last year and I can't ever make up for that and I feel guilty as Hell about what I unleashed on the world but more than anything, I regret what I did to you. I let you down and I wasn't there for you and I just want you to know that I'm here now, no matter what."

He finished his spiel and kept his eyes trained on his brother but didn't get much of a reaction. Dean nodded slightly but remained silent and staring forward and Sam was left wondering if he was getting through at all.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**August 17** _ _**th** _ _**, 1969…** _

Tasha stayed front row of the concert right through until Jefferson Airplane closed the show in the small hours of the morning, wishing every second that Dean could be there with her. Feeling slightly guilty about making Cas stand around the swarm of tents in the nearby field for over five hours, she made her way quickly over to find him, only stopping once at the rather disgusting toilets.

He wasn't in front of the orange tent like they had agreed. She waited a while before starting to wander around looking for him. After about and hour she was starting to get seriously worried and began sticking her head in every tent she passed, calling for him loudly. It really wasn't like him to just not show up. Had he gone back to check on the kids and something happened? Were the kids alright? Was Cas alright?

Tasha had spent most of her life moving around and had become a pro at not getting attached to the many people that came and went from her life. Then, on the very day the last of her family was killed, she had met Dean Winchester. Maybe it had been the timing and the fact that she was suddenly feeling so alone, or maybe it had been because he knew her whole story and hadn't judged her, or maybe it had been his amazing skills in the sack or even just his cheesy come-ons, but she had somehow allowed herself to let him in past those walls and her life had instantly changed. Suddenly she found herself becoming attached to people in droves.

First there was Dean's giant of a brother. Then after Cas had made her go into hiding from demons, she had since spent a year living with an elderly couple, retired hunters named Helen and Karl, and had found herself forming an attachment to them also. Next she had been thrown into 1969 with no real human company except a paraplegic Vietnam vet and an elderly lady who barely left the house. She had become extremely fond of both Gunter and Dorothy despite the knowledge she would have to leave them soon. And when the children were born, she instantly loved them more than anything, more than she ever knew was possible. All these people to worry about now.

But when it came to the angel, for reasons that totally escaped her, she had fought tooth and nail against letting him in. The angels in general, including Castiel, had been screwing Dean over since the first moment they had broken him out of Hell and Tasha couldn't forget how broken he had been that night in Wyoming, the night the twins had been conceived. In the end, however, Cas had somehow become the best friend she ever could have imagined and she loved him like he was her own family. He was the closest thing her kids had to a father right now and having to pretend he was her husband didn't bother her in the least. In fact, when she wasn't laughing her ass off watching him squirm with discomfort, she actually found it quite nice. He was pleasant company when he was around. She worried about him every time he left to continue his search for God and couldn't help but feel happy every time he reappeared outside her door.

She knew he cared about her in return, in his own way, and that he would do absolutely anything to protect both her and her children. It was amusing watching him learn more and more about human emotions and endearing to see how he was beginning to react more and more like a human himself. She wasn't sure if what she felt for him was a brotherly affection, a spiritual sentiment, a BFF thing, or something else entirely, but she knew without a doubt she would die for that nerdy-looking walking contradiction in his beige trench coat.  Never in a million years would she have ever guessed she would love a naïve, awkward, and innocent-seeming angel who had in truth smited thousands of souls in his centuries of existence, probably without thinking twice about it.

Her feelings of worry and concern turned to anger and annoyance when she finally did find him. She barged into a giant, trailer-home-sized tent to find him sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. A couple was actually having sex in the far corner and a dozen other stoned festival attendees lazed around the place on blankets and chairs. A heavy layer of marijuana smoke hung in the air. There was a topless hippie chick draped over Cas from behind, her arms pawing at his chest beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The girl looked strung out and severely high and Cas, Tasha realized with a pang of shock, didn't look much better.

"Cas, what the Hell is going on here?" she demanded, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"Hi Tasha," he slurred, smiling up at her.

"Who's this?" the girl sneered, not taking her hands off the angel's chest.

"I'm his wife, you skank," Tasha spat. "Now get your drugged-out ass off him before I bitch slap you."

Cas just grinned. "That was rude," he practically giggled, making no move to get up.

Tasha saw the vacant look in his eyes and her anger boiled over. She reached down and yanked the girl off him, shoving her roughly to the floor. As she tried to urge Cas to his feet, she looked around the room at the strung-out hippies who were all staring at her.

"What the fuck did you give him?" she demanded.

A tattooed and guy wearing a bandana and sitting nearby grinned up at her. "Just some sid," he drawled. "Like twelve hits, man. And a bottle of Jack. Dude's freakin' Superman! Oh, and a few lines. Uhhh, oh yeah, and a shitload of weed." He cackled in apparent amusement. "Your man has a taste for the brownies and man, he can suck a bong like Moonbeam here sucks dick." He tapped the passed out girl next to him.

"Jesus!" Tasha swore in a mix of anger and fear. The list of things Cas had been given would have easily killed an ordinary man. She hoped like Hell angels could mix their drugs because she didn't have a clue what to do if Cas started to OD. "You could have fucking killed him!" she spat at the man, ignoring the stoned giggles and jeers coming from the others in the tent.

She hauled Cas up to his feet and tucked herself under his arm to try and get him outside. He could pretty much walk himself but he seemed to need her help to keep straight and she tugged him harshly towards the door.

"Aw bummer, Bible Man's gotta jet," a heavily bearded man coughed between puffs of his joint. "Catch you on the flipside, man!"

"Your wife's a bitch, Bible Man!" Tasha heard the skank call out as she neared the tent flap. She was tempted to go back in and beat the crap out of the girl but reminded herself Cas wasn't really her husband and it wouldn't exactly be a fair fight.

"Yeah, it was groovy gettin' to know you, man!" another man added. "You keep looking for God, brother; you'll find him soon! Peace man!"

"Goodbye everyone," Cas answered, grinning and waving a two-fingered 'V' sign to them as he was yanked roughly out through the flap. "Peace!" A chorus of cheerful but dazed goodbyes followed them out.

Outside, Tasha kept pulling him along until they were in a quiet corner behind a dark tent and out of sight of everyone.

"Okay, zap us back home," she ordered, finding herself annoyed at the angel for somehow managing to find the absolute worst, drugged-out bunch of people in all of freaking Woodstock. "Right now. Gunter and Dorothy are gonna be worried sick."

Cas just shrugged and narrowed his eyes, his forehead creasing in concentration. He stayed like that for a few long seconds before he broke out into a fit of giggles, his shoulders shaking and his eyes watering through his laughter. "It seems the engines canna take it captain," he mimicked Scotty from Star Trek in an atrocious attempt at a Scottish accent.

Tasha was not amused. "Cas, how could you let them give you all those drugs?" she scolded, her anger still driven by fear for her friend.

"It felt good to laugh," he said slowly. "I've never laughed like that before." His blue eyes fixed on hers, though their focus was shifting in and out. "I see why humans enjoy it so much."

She sighed, suddenly unable to stay mad at him. "Can you focus enough to get us home?" she asked.

He nodded, the perma-grin still plastered on his face. He scrunched up his nose again and concentrated. This time, Tasha felt the peculiar tickle that accompanied an angel-transport and relief swept through her.

She steadied herself upon arrival to find they weren't in Dorothy's living room. In fact, they were in the middle of a busy street with horns blaring and yellow cabs whizzing by. As she glanced up to see a large truck bearing down on them, she clutched Cas's sleeve and ran, dragging him behind her towards the sidewalk. They narrowly missed being run over by the truck as well as a huge station wagon with woodgrained sidepanels.

Cas was once again giggling when they reached the relative safety of the sidewalk. "Beep beep," he mimicked, grinning like a little kid.

The brunette's heart was beating and she was still panting from the close call. She glared at him before looking around the street to try and figure out where they were. She saw a street sign reading Park Avenue and gasped when she noticed the large sign over the door across the street. "The Waldof Astoria,' she read. "Cas, we're in New York City. You zapped us to frigging New York!"

"Is that good?" he asked, still grinning. "Look at all the people," he cooed, staring wide-eyed around the busy streets. "Do you think they know I'm an angel?"

She rolled her eyes. "No Cas, and let's keep it that way." Being a big street in a huge city, there were indeed a lot of people around considering how late it was. She hooked her arm through his and led him down the block and into an alley where they could get at least a little privacy to zap out again. "Okay, come on Cas," she encouraged. "Try it again."

"You seem upset," he commented.

She groaned. "I just want to get home to my kids," she told him, trying to be patient. He was standing facing her in his trench coat with his tie undone, his shirt open, and a goofy grin on his face. "Geez Cas," she couldn't help but smile at the sight. "Do up your shirt already. I don't need to be seeing you half naked."

"I've seen you half naked," he retorted cheekily. "Actually, _all_   naked."

Tasha blushed furiously. "We agreed never to mention that incident, remember?" That 'incident' was the reason she had made the rule that the angel was only allowed to 'pop in' either outside or downstairs. Bathrooms and bedrooms were off-limits. 

She reached forward and started buttoning up his shirt. "Look," she said calmly, "try to gather your wits, okay? Please Cas. Try take us home to the kids."

"Well, isn't that sweet," came a deep voice from behind them, dripping with sarcasm.

Cas and Tasha both spun around to find two men approaching with knives drawn, blocking the only exit to the alley. Tasha cursed her carelessness, both for coming into the dead-end alley and letting this pair get the drop on her.

"Give us your money," the closest man demanded, waving the knife threateningly at Cas.

Cas just chuckled. "I don't have any money," he said truthfully. Tasha threw him a warning glare but he was clearly too stoned to take the hint. She instinctively moved in front of him but he stepped around her, nudging her backwards as the two men came to stand a couple of feet away.

"You'd better hope for your sake that's not true," the man warned.

"Watch, jewelry, wallet," the second guy demanded.

"Look we don't have anything worth anything so you may as well move on," Tasha said, trying to reason with the would-be muggers.

"Well lady, I see wedding rings on both of you," the first one growled.

Cas stepped forward, ignoring the agitated responses of the two men. "You can't have her ring," he said simply. "It is all she has left to remind her of her parents and she values it dearly."

Tasha was taken aback but touched that he remembered that fact. She had told him one evening that her father had made the wedding bands he and her mother had worn, fashioning them by hand out of melted down pawn store silver. When she had first dreamt up this ruse of Cas being her husband, she had slipped her mother's ring on her finger. Cas had Jimmy Novak's ring so her father's remained on a chain around her neck. Dean was the only other person who knew about the rings and what they meant to her.

"I will smite you before I let you take her ring," Cas continued, his voice taking on a frighteningly deep and echoey tone that thundered through the small alley.

It happened so quickly that the consequences, or lack thereof, hadn't quite registered before she reacted. The closest mugger thrust his knife forward and sank it hilt-deep into Cas's bare chest, just above his heart.

"Fuck!" Tasha cried out as anger and panic clouded her thoughts and she stepped forward, slamming her palm upwards into the bridge of the man's nose. Her left hand swept behind her and drew her own knife from where she kept it tucked in the top of her jeans. She lunged for the second man, her heart racing in fear for Cas.

The man dodged her jab and swiped his own larger knife back at her. She ducked it. "Cas?" she called anxiously, not taking her eyes off the man who was squaring off against her. "Cas, you okay?"

A strange sound reached he ears over the racket of the man she had hit in the face, who was groaning in agony from where he had fallen to his knees with blood streaming from his nose. She spared a fraction of a second to glance back at the angel only to find him looking down at the knife protruding from his chest and giggling. The fact that Cas couldn't be hurt by a simple knife finally dawned on her and she realized she had reacted hastily but the shocking sight of the blade sinking into her friend had triggered her instinctive hunter's reactions.

The mugger who was still on his feet was lunging at her again and she sidestepped his jab, twisting her body around and sinking her blade down into the meat of his thigh. He screamed and dropped his knife, staggering backwards with a look of shock. Tasha glanced behind her again to see Cas still standing there, his shoulders shaking in laughter.

"That's my wife!" he jeered happily at the two men. "She just kicked your asses!"

The guy with the blood pouring from his nose shuffled backwards and grabbed his accomplice by the shoulder, urging him backwards towards the mouth of the alley. "Let's go, Len," he whimpered, half dragging and half shoving the badly limping man.

Tasha watched them leave and looked back at a grinning Cas. Her adrenaline was still pumping and she couldn't help the smirk that curled her lips upwards. "Shit, Cas hat felt good!" she admitted. "It's been so long since I drew my knife I thought maybe I'd forgotten how to use it."

Cas gave her a curious look, his smile disappearing and his hand moving to hover over his stomach. "I believe my vessel may be … uh, hungry?" he announced with uncertainty.

It was Tasha's turn to laugh. "I'll bet he is after everything you pumped into him tonight," she told him. She grabbed the hilt of the knife in his chest and yanked it out with one sharp tug. "Does that even hurt?" she asked curiously, wiping her own blade on some loose cardboard and tucking it back in her jeans.

Cas shrugged. "It doesn't tickle," he said solemnly.

She grinned and hooked her arm through his. "Come on, Cheech," she teased. "Let's find an all-night diner and get those munchies taken care of so you can get us home in one piece."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**Present …** _

It had been a day and a half now and there was still no word from Cas. Every hour or so Dean would turn on the Impala's radio and the brothers would listen to the latest reports until the responsibility of what had happened weighed too heavily on them and one of them switched it off.

It was during one of these brief periods with the radio on that the next blow came. They had made it as far as Kentucky already since Dean, despite some urging from Sam, had refused to take the time to stop in Tennessee and pay Cassie a visit, claiming he had to get her brother back before he could face her.

The news anchor sounded as stunned as the ones giving the preliminary reports on the cloud disaster. Apparently the city of Lawrence, Kansas had been swallowed up, disappearing into the earth in some sort of giant sinkhole. The reaction this time was leaning farther towards the Wrath of God and Apocalyptic, End-of-Days paranoia than just plain terrorism and religious rhetoric was being given more credit this time round.

"Shit, Sam," Dean practically whispered, wiping his hand down across his face. "That's a message for us. A goddamn message for us."

Sam just swallowed and nodded. They needed to find Lucifer and they needed to find him now. He was killing people by the millions and he was doing it because Sam was refusing to say yes.

"Message received," the younger Winchester mumbled to himself. "Loud and fucking clear."

Dean glanced sideways at him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Don't even think about saying yes, Sam," he warned. "As bad as it is, it'll just get worse if they actually do have the fight."

"I know, I know," Sam agreed. "I swear, Dean, I will _never_   say yes. I'm with you 'til the end." He meant every word of that promise. He'd had enough of angels and demons bullying them and toying with them. This time he was going to trust Dean.

Dean just nodded and kept driving. The next hours were spent listening to the fanaticism and the doomsaying escalating on the radio and at every pitstop they made. People were scared. Hell, people were terrified. The brothers could sense it in every gas station attendant and every drive-thru server they had contact with.

Then it got worse and all-out panic set in.

The power went out. At first they thought it was just in the area they were driving through but most radio stations suddenly went off air. The few that remained started reporting that the power outage was across the entire country and even most of Canada and Mexico. Authorities had no idea what was causing it but the President broadcast another speech calling for calm and order and asking that everybody just stay home until the matter could be resolved.

The official speech did no good. Panic was widespread and steady streams of cars piled high with suitcases and rooftop cargo tubs began to appear on the major highways leading out of every big city. Apparently people believed that if this was indeed Judgment day, they were safer as far away from other people as they could get.

_How inspiring_ , Sam thought wryly.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**August 17** _ _**th** _ _**, 1969 …** _

Cherry's Diner was bright and pleasant and the waitress was refreshingly friendly. Cas ordered a bacon cheeseburger and fries without even looking at the menu, telling Tasha that Dean used to rave about them so he figured they must be good. Tasha just chuckled and ordered the same.

He grabbed the burger off the plate before it was even fully down on the table and took a giant mouthful, much to Tasha's amusement. His eyes widened in delight and he moaned as he chewed. "Oh this is … this is …" he trailed off, unable to find the right words or to resist taking his next huge bite.

"Better than sex?" Tasha finished for him with a teasing grin.

"Huh. I wouldn't know," he mumbled out around the food in his mouth.

It was Tasha's turn to widen her eyes in surprise. "What do you mean you wouldn't know?" she demanded, her mind reeling. Cas didn't answer but gave her a sheepish look as he continued to chew ravenously.

"Cas, are you a virgin?" she asked in disbelief, struggling to keep her voice low.

Cas rolled his eyes. "Why do you humans find that so amusing?" he asked, shoving the last third of his burger into his mouth.

"But what about Maureen Bolder?" Tasha pressed. She had been sure Cas had given in at some point to the attractive neighbor's constant advances.

Cas started shoveling fries into his mouth before he'd even swallowed the last of his burger. "Mmmmm, Dean was right. These are delightful."

"And Maureen?" Tasha pressed.

Cas looked back up at her and grinned. "Not so delightful.  I did not have sex with Maureen."

"Why the Hell not?" Tasha was finding this extremely entertaining. "Can angels not … you know..."

A giggle escaped the angel. "We can do whatever a human does while in a vessel," he informed her, "but most of us choose not to."

"But you said Jimmy was dead and that he isn't really aware in there and that he wasn't coming back to that body so it's not really unethical," Tasha pointed out. "I can't believe you've never done it. I mean, how old are you?"

"I've been around a long time," Cas winked at her, managing to sound kind of creepy instead of clever and mysterious like she was sure he had intended. He looked up suddenly and waved at the waitress, beckoning her wildly to come over.

"So howcome you had a falling out with the old lady next door?" the brunette demanded. "She used to love you and your religious jibber jabber but recently she can't say anything nice about you. I figured word must have gotten back to her about you and Maureen." She paused and took a bite of her own burger as the waitress reached the table.

"Oh my word!" the plump woman exclaimed upon spotting Cas's empty plate. "You sure were hungry."

"Yes, very," Cas nodded eagerly. "Could I have three more, please?"

"Three more burgers or three more fries?"

"Three more of each," the angel clarified. The waitress gave him a doubtful look but chuckled and left to give the order to the kitchen.

"Maureen kissed me by the garage," the angel admitted, picking up the conversation where they had left off. "Believe me, that woman is persistent. Unfortunately, Adele saw us and presumed we were having an affair.  She has not been kind to me since."

Tasha laughed, picturing the awkwardness of the scene. "Guess I should thank her for having my back," she said. "Was that your first kiss?"

"Yes."

She noticed Cas eyeing her full plate rather hungrily and she pushed it to the middle of the table so he could share. "I'm sorry about earlier then," she said honestly. "Looks like you were about to get laid when I barged into that tent. I know it's none of my business, but I seriously think you can do a Hell of a lot better than that drugged out whore, Cas. You should raise your standards a little, especially for your first time."

"Dean took me to a den of iniquity," Cas admitted.

Tasha snorted into her Coke. " _Definitely_   set the bar higher than that!" she exclaimed. 

"It didn't go very well," Cas continued and Tasha couldn't help but enjoy the chatty effect the cocktail of drugs was having on the usually uptight angel. "I don't have much success in communicating with human females," he said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Hey, you're communicating with me," Tasha pointed out with feigned offense.

"I mean those who don't know what I am," he corrected. "I wish I could talk to women without them thinking I was strange. Like Dean does." Cas's face drew into an expression of deep thought and contemplation and Tasha couldn't help but snicker at just how much he seemed like a regular human right now. A stoned one, but a human nonetheless.

"For example, Anna," Cas continued. "I had known Anna for millennia and had served alongside her many times here on Earth, sometimes taking vessels together for decades at a time. Yet we never touched or even had a conversation that was not related to our mission, our brethren, or our Father." He frowned. "Dean had known her for just one day and they …"

He looked up sharply, catching her eyes. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "Perhaps I shouldn't have spoken of that."

Tasha felt the sharp pang of jealousy jab at her insides but managed to control her reaction. She had guessed as much about Dean and this Anna angel-chick when the hunter had told her the story of finding her and hiding her from the angels and demons both. "That's alright," she said dismissively. "Dean and I never promised each other anything. I mean, we were apart for a year and Lord knows Dean's not exactly a monk."

She must not have done a very good job of covering her hurt because Cas narrowed his blue eyes at her. "Dean cares about you deeply," he said gravely, holding the serious look for only a couple of seconds before the glazed stoner look swept back across his face. "So why then haven't you sought the company of any other men?" he asked bluntly.

Tasha shrugged, not liking how the conversation had shifted to her lack of a love life instead of the angel's. "Honestly," she said finally. "I just don't want anyone else."

Cas nodded in apparent understanding. "What's it like?" was his next question.

"What, being in love?"

"No, sex."

She snickered. "Well, that depends who you're with. But I'll give you some advice. You're not done until _she_ finishes, okay?" She wagged her finger at him over the table make her point. "You keep that in mind and you'll do just fine."

Cas looked confused. "Finishes what?"

A loud burst of laughter escaped her and she sat back in the booth bench seat. "Cas, I kinda like you the way you are," she said sincerely. "Don't be in such a rush to lose that, okay?"

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**Present…** _

The lines of traffic leaving the urban areas grew exponentially as they neared New York. The radio broadcasts did nothing to help them find Meg as they were completely monopolized by the terror sweeping the country and no other news stories were even being reported.

"Frigging Crowley might as well have said _'she's on Earth',"_   Dean bitched as they sailed up the interstate. "You got any idea how many people are in New York?"

"There's about…"

"Rhetorical, Sam. Rhetorical." Dean cut his aggravatingly well-informed brother off.

"Eight million, eight hundred thirty-nine thousand, eight hundred and eighty-one," came a deep gravelly voice from the back seat. It ignored both the startled jumps from both brothers and the swerving of the Impala on the road.

"Jeez, Cas!" Dean griped, fighting for control of the car.

Sam recovered first. "Where have you been?" he demanded urgently, twisting in his seat. "And what do you know about the black cloud thing? Can you check on Bobby?"

Cas sighed and answered gravely. "I already did. I am sorry."

There was no need to elaborate on what he had found. Both brothers were grateful for the few seconds of silence Cas gave them to process the confirmation of the truth they had already known.

"And I am sorry I did not contact you sooner," Cas said finally. "I was surveilling a surprisingly well-informed cherub and could not let my presence be known."

"You were spying," Dean clarified.

"Yes. And the battery is depleted on my phone so…" He pulled the phone from his pocket and handed it over the seat back to Sam, who rolled his eyes but plugged it in to recharge.

"How'd you find us then?" the younger hunter wondered out loud.

"I stopped by to see Cassie. Ellen told me you were headed towards New York City. Your car wasn't difficult to find as most of the traffic seems to be going in the other direction."

Dean bit his lip at the mention of Cassie. Should he have stopped by to see her also? Sam had urged him to but he just couldn't bring himself to face her for fear that she asked where Sammy was. He wanted to bring her brother home and be able to tell her they were going to be a family and that she was safe. He didn't want to lie to her.

"Meg is in an empty building on Baldwin Street," Cas announced.

"How do you know that?" Sam couldn't help but ask.

"The demons are not bothering to cover their tracks very well these days," the angel announced. "They are getting more and more bold. Ellen told me who you were looking for and I simply asked the first demon I came across…before I killed him, of course."

"Bold or not, that skank's gonna tell us where Lucifer is," Dean snarled, nodding his approval of Cas's tactics as he turned off the Interstate.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Cas's information turned out to be correct, a fact the hunters could tell as soon as they approached the building from the cover of the trees on the west side. There was sulfur by the gate and two black-eyed guards at the side entrance. They took the guards out with ease, Sam jabbing one in the throat with Ruby's knife and Cas using his mojo on the other.

Dean's skin began to crawl as they slipped in through the metal door of the abandoned warehouse. That was almost too easy. Nothing where Meg was concerned was ever that easy.

His instincts were proven right a few seconds later when a loud snarl floated across the room. Flashes of being ripped apart by the jaws and shredded by the claws of a beast that made that exact noise bombarded him and he was pretty sure he gasped out loud. His head spun in the direction of the sound.

He couldn't see anything but he could _feel_   it. _A Hellhound._

"Oh shit," was all he could come up with. "I can't see it."

"What is it?" Sam asked anxiously, his eyes also scanning the empty space where the sound had originated.

"Not it," Cas replied calmly. "Them."

"How many?" Dean demanded, drawing the Colt. "Cas, how many?"

Cas's forehead was pulled into a worried frown. "Six," he said. "Six Hellhounds."

The growling and snarling intensified and seemed to be moving towards them. Dean pointed the Colt at where he thought one was and fired. The antagonistic move just seemed to anger them as the noise escalated. "Did I get him?" he asked Cas.

The angel shook his head. "No. And now they're angry."

"Fuck!" Dean swore, fear boiling up inside. "Hellhounds are always angry," he added, grabbing Sam's sleeve and tugging him towards the corridor behind them. "Run!" he commanded, firing again aimlessly behind him as they fled.

They rounded a corner and scurried down another corridor before entering a large room. The only other exit was a set of steel doors on the other side which turned out to be locked. Sam started to pick the lock as Dean worked frantically to reload the Colt. Cas turned to look behind them. "They're still coming," he deadpanned.

"Here," Dean said finally, thrusting the antique weapon into Cas's hands. "You can see them; you shoot them!"

Cas gave him a skeptical look but turned to face the unseen enemy again and fired. The bullet zinged off some steel equipment way off to the side. He fired a few more times but the humans could hear no yelps or howls of pain and the bullets seemed to be bouncing harmlessly off any and every surface around the room. His brow furrowed deeply and he moved the barrel close to his face to look it over with a slightly puzzled expression.

"Cas, you can't aim for shit!" Dean cried, realizing they were as good as dead because there was no way out until Sam got the door open. He felt as much as heard a huge, furry body leaping at him and threw his arm up in front of his face, fear jolting through him as he prepared for the inevitable pain.

But it never came. Instead he heard a sickeningly loud yelp and warm, red blood spattered his face. He looked up to see Cas's arm extended in front of him, his angel blade gripped in his fist. Though the blade was dripping with blood, only the hilt was visible as the rest was buried deep into the Hellhound. Cas flung the invisible beast to the ground and shoved the Colt into Dean's chest with his free hand.

"I'm not very familiar with guns," he admitted frankly, turning back towards the oncoming snarling.

Sam got the door open at that very second and he hauled Dean backwards through it. "Cas!" Sam yelled. "Get through here!"

The brothers watched as Cas spun and drove his blade into another beast, the resulting screech shooting pain through their ears.

"Cas!" Dean called, getting frantic. How could they fight an enemy they couldn't see? Cas was too badly outnumbered to take them alone.

Cas spared a quick glance back at them. "Go," he ordered. "Find Meg." He reached out and shoved the door. As it swung closed, all Sam and Dean could see were two rows of bloody marks appearing on Cas's arm as a Hellhound sunk its teeth into the angel.

"Wait, Cas!" Dean practically screamed, lunging for the door to stop it from closing. He caught a glimpse of the angel blade sweeping downwards as the solid metal barrier slammed shut.

Dean grabbed the handle to open it again but a firm hand stopped him.

"Dean." Sam's was the voice of reason. "We'll only get in the way," the younger Winchester pointed out. "He's got a better chance without us. We need to find Meg so we can find Sammy, remember?"

The sound of another Hellhound dying floated through the door.

"Stupid son of a bitch," Dean muttered but he nodded to his brother. Cas would be alright. He had to be. Dean really couldn't take losing anyone else. He really couldn't.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

When they did find Meg it almost seemed as if she had found them instead. They wandered around the warehouse chalking devil's traps by all the doors as they searched only to come across her outside in what seemed to be a mall courtyard near the center of the building. She was sitting on a picnic table bench with her back resting on the table and her feet up on a nearby trash can.

"Hi boys," she cooed smugly. She glanced around with an exaggerated look of surprise on her face. "Where's Bobby?"

"You black-eyed bitch," Dean spat, tucking the Colt out of sight into the back of his pants.

"Oh come now, Dean," she sneered, getting up from the table and approaching him slowly. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"Stay back, Meg," Sam warned, holding Ruby's knife out in front of him and edging himself slightly in front of Dean. Meg had tried to kill the elder Winchester the last time she had seen him, toying with him by having a demon possessing Bobby do the deed. He didn't want her moving any closer to his brother.

"Aw Sammy, now I'm really hurt," Meg pouted. "And here I thought you and I shared something special." Her lip curled upwards in a sly smile. "That week we spent together…"

"Where's Lucifer?" Sam cut right to the chase.

Meg smirked at him. "Well if we had known you were coming, I'm sure he would have stuck around. He's just dying to meet you in person, Sammy."

"Where is he?" Dean demanded, his mind racing to figure out a way to get the bitch trapped and at their mercy. He couldn't shoot her with the Colt until they got Lucifer's whereabouts from her and they wouldn't get that unless they could get the upper hand.

"No, you know what Meg?" Sam said suddenly, shaking his head. "We have no use for you. You're not why we're here." He turned towards the door to go back inside. "Come on Dean."

Sam and Dean could practically read each other's thoughts and Dean followed his brother's lead instantly. "Yeah, you're right Sam," he shrugged, turning and stepping quickly back into the building in front of the tall hunter. "She's not worth it."

They heard an infuriated huff from behind them and sure enough, she followed them back inside, trapping herself in the Devil's trap they had chalked there not two minutes before.

Sam snickered. "You couldn't just let us walk away, could you?" he gloated back at her. "You just love the sound of your own voice too much."

"You won't be laughing when I slice Sammy Junior's throat," she spat angrily before regaining her composure.

"Where's Lucifer?" Dean repeated, drawing the Colt and cocking it menacingly in front of her.

"Like I would betray my Father," she answered defiantly, folding her arms across her chest, though the flicker of fear on her face confirmed she recognized the weapon in Dean's hands.

"I thought he wanted to meet me," Sam pointed out. "Just tell me where he is and I'll oblige."

"He likes to do things on his own terms," she retorted, her smug smile slowly returning.

"I tell you what. Coz I like you two so much, I'll make you a deal."

"You're not getting anything from us," Sam said quickly.

"Well that's fine," she snapped, because the deal's not for you." She turned to face Dean. "The deal's for big brother, as usual."

"Oh sweetheart, I ain't interested," Dean sneered.

"If Dean shoots himself with the Colt," Meg said slowly. "Then I'll tell Sam right where Lucifer is."

Sam spun his head towards his brother, who had a thoughtful look on his face. "Don't even think about it," he said sternly.

Dean snorted. "I know better than to trust a demon deal, Sam." He stepped closer to Meg. "Here's my counter offer. You tell me where Luci is and I let you pick your weapon of choice." He waved the Colt at her and gestured for Sam to show Ruby's knife. Sam smirked and held the blade up for Meg to get a good look.

Just then Cas strode into the room through the far door. His hair was disheveled and his trench coat was ripped and covered in blood. Both brothers were struck with an enormous sense of relief at the sight of their friend alive.

"I know where Lucifer is," Cas announced simply.

"How?" Dean demanded, his heart jumping in anticipation.

"The hellhounds are more sentient than their earthly counterparts," he said in way of explanation. "Their fear of him was first and foremost in their minds."

Dean grinned widely. "Okay, Dog Whisperer, where is he then?" He looked back at Meg in anticipation of the reply.

"Detroit."

Dean saw the alarm flash in Meg's eyes at Cas's answer and remembered his stint in 2014. Detroit was it. He just knew it in his gut. That was where Lucifer was. That was where his son was. He spared a nervous glance at Sam. That was also where Sam had given in and said yes in Zachariah's alternate timeline. Would his brother betray him again?

Whatever was going to happen, he knew he was going to Detroit. Rescuing his son was all he had left. That doe-eyed little boy and the saucy little blonde girl in Tennessee were the only things keeping him going.

He turned to Meg. "Looks like we don't need you after all."

"No, wait, Dean," Meg stammered. "We can…"

_**Bang** _

Lights flashed beneath her skin and her eyes locked with Dean's, wide with fear and disbelief before she crumpled to the floor, dead.

Dean stared down at Meg's lifeless body. "I've wanted to do that for a long fucking time."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	13. Chew Me Up and Spit Me Out

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Getting out of New York proved to be more difficult than getting in. Luckily, the Impala was no stranger to lesser-used back roads and the brothers managed to avoid the worst of the lines of panicked civilians fleeing the city. Only short-wave radio was left working and they dug the one Bobby had given them out of the trunk. They heard reports of public prayers being held at churches by the masses that had suddenly rediscovered religion and there were reports of peaceful demonstrations being held all over the country by the more conspiracy-minded who were demanding answers from authorities. On the darker side of things, instances of looting and violent confrontations with police and the military were increasing exponentially, especially in the urban areas. With the power out all over the continent, emergency services were being stretched thin and back-up generators were reaching their limits.

Sam and Dean filled Cas in on all that Crowley had said, including the part about Lucifer not giving a crap about whether or not Cassie got caught in the crossfire. The angel sat in silence in the back seat for a long time afterwards and it wasn't until they were just a few hours out of Detroit that he spoke up.

"I think I should ask the angels for help," he blurted.

 _"What?"_   both brothers exclaimed in unison.

"Those loyal to Michael," Cas explained. "If we inform them the children are Dean's then they will step in to protect Cassie and they will do all they can to save Sammy."

"No freakin' way, Cas!" Dean almost yelled into the back seat. "You forgetting that it was them that wanted Lucifer out to start with? They don't give a rat's ass about the kids."

"But they would want them safe, even if it is for their own reasons," Cas argued.

"There's no way any of those dicks are getting near my kids!" Dean said adamantly.

"Need I remind you we are going up against _the Devil_   with nothing but a hundred and seventy year old gun," Cas said, his voice deepening as he tried to make his point.

"You're saying we have no chance?" Sam demanded accusingly.

"I'm saying the odds would be better if we had help," Cas replied evenly. "We don't even know if the Colt will work and I'm certainly not powerful enough to kill an archangel. I think my bout with Raphael was proof of that."

The car was silent for a long moment. "It may be the only way to keep your son alive," Cas continued finally, addressing Dean directly. "It would seem Lucifer does not care much for the prophecies but I know Michael swears by them, especially this one that he did not create. He must know this is the true word of God. He will do all in his power to keep the children alive if he knows they are yours, Dean. He believes one of them will determine his fate." He sat back and stared intently out the side window. "I am only thinking of Sammy's safety," he said more quietly. "Look what happened to Tasha. The three of us weren't enough to keep her safe."

Dean's heart twisted in a knot at the despairing words. Cas didn't think they could do this. The angel was the one thing Dean had been counting on the most. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, waiting for his response. After all, they were Dean's children. This was Dean's decision. He glanced over at his little brother, searching for some kind of assurance they could do this, that together they could defeat Lucifer.

He saw grief and weariness in those hazel eyes but he saw determination and for a moment, his mind took him to the memory of a badly beaten Sam after the incredible fight he had put up trying to stop Sammy from being taken. Then he thought of the strength Sam had shown in resisting the possession of the demon who was going to kill Cassie. Maybe they could do this.

Then other memories reared their heads. The memory of Sam leaning over him, choking the life out of him in a demon-blood-induced rage before he walked out with Ruby and left Dean gasping for breath on the floor. The memory of Sam screaming in the panic room, flying around the walls in demonic fits of withdrawal until Dean and Bobby had been forced to strap him down. The memory of Sam's face, eyes cold and heartless and wearing that creepy white suit as he assured him that all roads would end them up here; that Sam was always going to say yes. _That_   Sam had said yes. Yes to demon blood, yes to Ruby, and yes to Lucifer.

Then there was the Croatoan Virus. Crowley had suggested it was on the Devil's To-Do list. In Zachariah's 2014, it had been Lucifer's final play, letting humanity wipe itself out without him having to lift a finger. He had unleashed the virus after Sam had said yes…and Sam had said yes _in Detroit_.

_Damnit, why did it have to be Detroit today?_

"Okay," he said quietly to Cas, his stomach churning in disgust at his own lack of faith. "Let them help." Cas nodded and disappeared and Sam just looked away, not saying a word.

They rode in silence for almost twenty minutes. Dean's mind was still racing, trying to justify his questionable decision to bring in the angels when his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry from Sam.

"Dean! Stop!"

Dean slammed the brakes on, his eyes scanning the landscape outside to see what the cause for alarm was. He saw it instantly. There were two cars half pulled off the road up ahead, a Durango and a Cutlass. A man had a woman pressed up against the SUV with a gun in her face while another was kicking a third man on the ground.

Sam was out of the Impala before it had even come to a full stop. With his Glock drawn, he charged forward and punched the man doing the kicking before the guy even knew what had hit him. He then squared off against the man who was now behind the woman with his arm around her neck, the gun pressed to her head and his eyes wild.

"Let her go!" Sam commanded sharply, his gun aimed steadily at the guy's head. Dean grabbed a shotgun from the trunk and joined the standoff. He aimed a hard kick at the first man's head, knocking him back down to the ground as he tried to get up. Then he extended an arm and helped the man who had been getting the beating to his feet.

"You okay?" he asked curtly.

The man nodded, his eyes glued to the sight of the woman being held captive. "Yeah," he said absently, fear saturating his voice. "These guys ran us off the road and tried to steal our gas." He pointed at the back seat. "My kids…" he gasped.

Sam and Dean both glanced at the back window of the Durango. There were two young children in the back seat, a boy and a girl, both strapped in their car seats and sobbing. Dean swung his shotgun up at the man still holding the gun. "What the fuck's the matter with you?" he demanded angrily.

"We just needed some gas!" the man yelled. "Power's out and most fill-up stations ain't working. He just should have given us his gas!" He pointed to the beaten man standing next to Dean.

"And what, let you strand him out here with his family?" Dean spat. "With his kids?"

"Hey, the world's gone crazy, Pal," the man fired back. "It's every man for themselves."

Sam had his Glock held still and steady, his eyes and the gun locked on the guy's face. "Just let the lady go," he said evenly, never wavering his gaze.

"No way," the guy squeaked, clearly intimidated. "You'll just shoot me."

Dean snorted. "Sam?" he asked, sounding casual. "You got a clean shot?"

"Yep," Sam answered, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Listen buddy," Dean negotiated. "My brother here can shoot you dead before you can even think about squeezing that trigger so you've got two choices. Either you drop the gun and you and your friend live, or Sam here blows a hole straight through your head. Either way, this nice family is driving out of here with all of their gas."

The guy thought about it for minute, his eyes darting back and forth between the brothers, neither of whom even so much as blinked. Finally he looked at Dean. "You'll make sure he doesn't shoot me?"

"He won't if you do as we say," Dean promised.

The guy finally raised his hands and released the woman, who immediately darted over to her husband and hugged him tightly. Sam stepped forward and snatched the gun from the man's hand, shoving him away from the Durango and towards his Cutlass. The guy both brothers had hit was still struggling to get to his feet.

"Na, ah," Sam shook his head at them. "Not so fast." He gestured to the nearby woods with his gun and reached into the Impala's open trunk for a length of rope.

Dean smirked as Sam headed towards the woods with the men at gunpoint. He made sure the family was okay and sent them on their way before helping Sam tie the thugs to a tree. That would give the family enough time to get some distance between them, at least. The brothers pushed the Cutlass off the road before getting back in the Impala and continuing on their way with one more gun added to their arsenal.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean breathed after a few moments of contemplation. "The world's gone to Hell already. _We_   did this."

Sam didn't refute the statement, though his inner voice was correcting Dean's mistake. _No,_ **I** _did this._

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**May 26, 1972….** _

"Please Cas, just one more story?" begged Cassie.

"Yeah, tell us about Daddy and the Rawheads," Sammy pleaded.

Cas groaned. "I already told you that one tonight," he pointed out. "And your mother would be angry with me if she found out you weren't sleeping yet."

"She can't see us in here, Cas," Cassie pointed out, sitting up in her sleeping bag. "Tell us the one with Gabriel and the Cupid. Pleeeease."

"Yeah, pleeeease?" Sammy added. "We won't tell Mommy you let us stay up late."

Cas sat uncomfortably on the small stool in the treehouse at the back of Dorothy's yard, wondering why he had agreed to chaperone the children's first camp-out. Gunter and Tasha had been working on building this treehouse all month, with Little Sammy getting in the way every step in his excitement and his eagerness to help. When the last of the boards had been nailed on this morning, Cassie had suggested that it was to be her and Sammy's new bedroom. Once the idea of sleeping in it had been implanted in Sammy's brain, there was no telling him no and when Cas had returned that afternoon from a two-month absence in his search for God, he was quickly volunteered by the tiny blonde to be the chaperone.

"Cas can guard us Mommy," she argued. "He's our gardinan angel, 'member?"

Tasha had sighed in frustration. "What do you say, Cas?" she had deferred the decision to him.

He hadn't been able to say no. In fact, he was very seldom able to say no when they asked for something, especially when the things they asked for were so simple for him despite his waning heavenly powers. An ice cream cone. To fix the broken Tonka truck. To reheat their bath water so they could stay in longer. To give the six-year-old bully down the street a few harmless warts.

And so he found himself out here in the cramped treehouse telling the kids bedtime story after bedtime story in hopes they would soon tire and go to sleep. He didn't need sleep so during the times he was around the house, he often spent the nights sitting quietly in their room, contemplating his next move in his search for God or just enjoying the peaceful sound of their breathing.

"Very well," he relented. "But this is the last story."

"Of course." Cassie grinned as she lay back down and Cas couldn't help but notice that she didn't sound sincere in the least. He dimmed the light with a wave of his hand and started the story.

"I had a big brother named Gabriel who wasn't like most of the other angels…"

**~o~o~**

Tasha glanced out the window kitchen again, straining her eyes to find the dim light was still on in the tree at the far end of the large yard. She shook her head and chuckled. It was after ten o'clock and the kids were obviously still awake, no doubt pestering Cas into telling them bedtime story after bedtime story. That pushover always gave in to the twins' demands. _Some big tough Soldier of Heaven he was_ , she thought affectionately.

At first, she hadn't really liked the idea of the kids sleeping in the treehouse. Unlike the main house, its demon-proofing was minimal and it wasn't a good position to be caught in if it came down to a fight. Then there was the very slim threat of Diego, the vampire that was hunting down and killing her family, somehow finding them. He was still alive in 1972. She knew he had no idea they existed since technically she wasn't even born yet, but if he ever ran into them by some fluke or accident, he would recognize their smell. He had been able to smell the Montoya blood in her and they were as much Montoya as they were Winchester. There were just too many threats to her kids.

Then Cas had shown up after being away for almost two months and the kids had been so excited to see him and so desperate to spend time with him. Never having met their own father, they looked upon Cas as their dad, the only one they had ever known. Of course, it didn't help that the neighbors and even Gunter were always referring to him as ' _Mr. Singer_ ' and ' _your daddy_ ' in front of them. God, she probably had them so confused already having told them all about their real daddy while everyone else was telling them Cas was.

One thing was for sure, though; she knew they were safe with the angel. If he was willing to sit all night in the cramped little wooden room seven feet up a tree trunk with a rope ladder and a tiny trapdoor, then she would let them have their fun. It would actually give her a much-needed full night of sleep. She had been unable to sleep soundly in recent weeks because of Cassie's recurring nightmares. They only happened once or twice a week and even though the little girl seemed to have shrugged it off completely by morning, Tasha was growing increasingly concerned and lay awake at night listening and worrying. She knew their Uncle Sam had been born different, whether it be demonic or whatever, and the fact that her children's father and uncle were the ultimate vessels for Lucifer and Michael meant this stuff was already in the children's blood. What if Cassie turned out to be like Sam? Dean had told her on more than one occasion that his brother had been plagued with nightmares for a time when he was a young boy. Then when he was an adult those nightmares had turned into death visions and later into psychic powers; the kind of shit she didn't want either of her kids to ever have to deal with.

With that worry still nagging at her, she was finally drifting off to sleep on the couch in the living room when she was awakened by a man's deep voice.

"The child isn't here," it said and Tasha bolted upright, her hand reaching instinctively under her pillow for the angel blade Cas had given her for protection while he was gone.

 _Shit_ , she cursed to herself. _It wasn't there_. She hadn't planned on falling asleep on the couch so the knife was still on the dresser table near the kitchen door, behind the figurine Dorothy's husband had managed to send her from occupied France before he had been killed in the war thirty years ago.

Her eyes focused finally in the dim light to see the man who had spoken. He was a tall, black man and he was staring right at her, an unimpressed look on his face.

She leapt to her feet and tried to run towards the door only to find it blocked by a second intruder, an older man with a comb-over. Not sure if they were demons or angels or some other supernatural beings, she turned towards the kitchen, determined to get to a weapon in her hands so she could at least put up a fight.

A blonde girl who couldn't be more than fifteen appeared in the kitchen doorway, blocking her way and moving quickly into the room.

"There is just this one and the older female upstairs," the black man repeated, speaking directly to the young girl. "The child isn't here."

"I can see that," the girl snapped, looking curiously at Tasha. "Where is your child?" she demanded with an unmistakable air of authority.

"Who are you?" Tasha fired back, inching towards the dresser with the angel dagger. It may not kill demons but it would hurt them. She was good with a blade so if none of them had the mojo, she stood a chance.

"None of your concern, mudmonkey," the black man said with obvious disdain. "Just tell us where the human child is."

It dawned on her that these were angels, not demons and she realized that was not good news. Her mind ran through Cas's words of advice if ever faced with a confrontation with an angel.

" _An angel will never fear you. It is their belief the only one who can kill an angel is another angel." He had handed her his angel dagger. "Not one of these has even been lost or ever fallen into non-angel hands. Well, until I disobeyed, that is for I gave one to Dean and I am giving you mine now. They will not expect you to have it."_

_She had argued that he might need it to defend himself while away on his search for God but he quelled her argument by pointing out that the dagger should be wherever the children were, in case they needed protecting. She couldn't dispute that._

" _If facing an angel, surprise them and use their own arrogance against them," he had told her. "It will be your only chance."_

"Is Dorothy okay?" she stammered, worry for the kind old lady who had been her host for five years gripping her insides. Meanwhile, she was still making her way slowly and surreptitiously towards the figurine and the angel dagger hidden behind it.

"Let's just kill her now," the tall man said, ignoring her question and again directing his words at the young blonde. "The child has to be here somewhere nearby; it's too young to be off on its own."

"Your friend is sleeping soundly upstairs," Anna answered Tasha reassuringly, ignoring the more menacing angel. "We will not harm her and she will not awaken until we are gone."

"Of course, by then you'll be dead," the black man added with a sneer.

The young girl was staring intently at Tasha. "I don't like this," she said finally, her face pulling into a thoughtful frown.

The black man groaned. "What's to like, Anna?" he demanded. "We don't question orders; we just follow them"

The blonde flashed an angry look at him, stepping closer to her opinionated subordinate. Tasha knew there was no way she could take out three angels but if she could just make enough commotion to warn Cas then he could zap the kids to safety somewhere far from here.

"These are strange orders," the one called Anna said. "Coming directly from Michael? That's practically unheard of."

"Stop asking questions, Anna," the black man warned. "You sound almost blasphemous. What has come over you these days?"

"Why send three angels to kill one human female and capture one human child?" Anna posed the question to nobody in particular. "And why was Castiel sent on a different mission? We usually work together."

Tasha's head snapped up at the mention of Castiel. These were his friends? Correction – his _former_   friends? She was trying to think what approach to take with this information while the blonde girl continued challenging the black man.

"What could a human girl have done to make Michael take such notice?" She stared at Tasha but her question seemed more rhetorical than direct.

"How do we know she's even the right one?" the balding man chimed in, looking doubtfully at the young mother.

"Because she's been marked," Anna said, her expression still curious. "Hidden from us, just like Michael said."

The black man laughed. "She's not so hidden now." He turned to Tasha, a threatening scowl on his face. "For the last time, where is the child?

Before the brunette could answer, Anna cut in. "Who marked you?" she demanded. "Only an angel could have put those sigils on you."

"Michael didn't order us to ask about her sigils," the more antagonistic angel argued. "I'm just going to kill her. We can find the child without her."

"Wait," Tasha butted in, looking at the one called Anna, something about the name falling into place in the back of her mind. "My child's no threat to you, or to Michael. You don't need to do this..."

A sudden extreme jolt of pain erupted inside her and she cried out in agony and shock, clutching her stomach and doubling over, unable to speak.

"Uriel, don't forget who is of the highest rank here!" Anna shouted at her co-worker.

Tasha's eyes widened and she spun her head towards the black man as the pain subsided slightly. "Uriel?" she spat. "You're the smite-happy traitorous fuck who … ahhhghh!" She doubled over once again in pain, falling to her knees with her hands again pressed to her stomach.

"Uriel, wait…" Anna said hesitantly. "I'm not sure."

Knowing the blonde girl's doubts were her only chance, Tasha fought to focus her eyes on her, trying to concentrate through the excruciating pain. "Where's Cas?" she gasped. "Let me speak to Cas … your Cas... Casti..."

Another round of agonizing pain burst within her and as hard as she tried, she couldn't get the words out. Cas had told her that speaking to his old self would not work in their favor anyway. He had warned her that he would have turned his future self in rather than disobey an order. She had argued with him, insisting that on the inside, he was the same person then as he is now but Cas had been adamant that he wasn't because he had not yet met Dean Winchester and it had taken the young hunter's incredible courage and bravery against all odds to open his eyes to right and wrong and the true path to following God's Will.

Writhing in pain and unable to speak, Tasha forced herself to her knees, leaning heavily on the dresser that she had been moving towards. She didn't miss the look that passed between Uriel and the third, balding angel and knew she didn't have much time.

"Orders are orders, Anna," she heard Uriel say and Anna finally nodded her consent, dashing Tasha's last hopes of a starting a mutiny.

The angel in the older vessel stepped forward and reached his hand towards Tasha's face just as she heard Anna say quietly, "Very well. Do it."

Tasha pushed herself to her feet and grabbed for the dagger on the desk behind her, wrapping her fingers around the pummel and twisting her torso to ram the full length of the blade up into the neck of the angel standing before her.

His eyes immediately turned to pure light and Tasha squeezed her own shut, well aware looking at the light would burn her eyeballs out of their sockets if it didn't just kill her outright. Knowing she would only be able to take out one, that the other two would be smiting her ass any second now, she pleaded with whatever powers that be that Cas would somehow sense what was going on and get the children away in time. _Please don't let them be used as pawns by these assholes_ , she whispered with what she was certain was to be her last thought.

She could feel the blinding light suddenly subside and warily opened her eyelids just a crack, venturing to see what was going on and surprised she was still standing and breathing. She was shocked to see Cas standing in front of her, his brow furrowed with concern as his blue eyes peered into her brown ones.

"Cas!" she gasped, looking around quickly to see that they were in Gunter's kitchen. The kids were both sitting on the bewildered man's lap in his wheelchair and his eyes were wide as he stared at her. He had an arm each around Cassie and Sammy and the expression of shock on the older man's face would have been amusing had the situation not been so dire.

"Cas, it's angels," she managed to get out.

His face was solemn but calm as usual and he simply nodded at he. "I know," he said simply. "Michael has somehow found us."

Tasha's mind was still reeling from the fact that she was alive and her knees were still weak from whatever Uriel had done to cause her pain. She concentrated on staying upright and found she couldn't think or speak for a moment. Instead she just stood there in Gunter's kitchen catching her breath. Cas gripped her shoulder, steadying her.

"I felt Uriel using his power to hurt you," he explained gravely. "I brought the children here and went back to get you. When I got there you had just killed Hermeziel. His death provided a fortunate distraction and neither Anna nor Uriel saw me." He paused for a second. "The angels know we are here," he said finally. "We should go back to the future."

She finally pulled her wits together, forcing a chuckle at Cas's choice of phrasing. "Okay McFly," she quipped, moving past him towards the man in the wheelchair and her kids. "Gunter," she said apologetically, "I'm sorry you had to see that." She waved her hand at Cas to indicate her sudden and completely supernatural entrance into his kitchen with the angel. "Remember I told you one day that we would have to leave for good, probably suddenly and with no notice?" she gave him a sheepish look as she took the kids' hands and urged them off Gunter.

The fifty-year old black man nodded and gave her a lopsided smile. "Honestly," he managed, "I figured out long ago Cass here wasn't the littl'uns real daddy. But all this time I thought the man who was was the kind who liked to slap women around and that you was hiding from him." He stared at Cas. "I didn't rightly believe the kids when they said Cass was an angel."

She chuckled and leaned down to give her friend a long hug. "Don't worry. Their dad's a good man," she assured him. "And I think it's time he met his kids, anyway. Take care of yourself, Gunter. And look after Dorothy. Tell her we're sorry we didn't get a chance to say good-bye."

"Will do," he nodded, his eyes welling with unshed tears as he looked at the two children. "You two behave for your mama now, ye hear?" he said gruffly.

"Mommy, are we going somewhere?" Cassie asked, wrapping her arms around her mother's leg.

"Yes, we are," she told them, trying to sound relaxed. "Remember I said you'd meet your daddy someday?"

Little Sammy nodded vigorously, his big, brown eyes widening. He was always asking about this mysterious 'real daddy' of theirs, always wanting to hear stories about him and asking questions about why he didn't live with them like the other kids' daddies.

"Well, we're going to meet him," she told them. "Cas is going to take us there." A thought occurred to her and she suddenly narrowed here eyes at the angel. "Cas, you should have taken the kids away already," she chastised. "You shouldn't have left them here to come back for me."

Cas frowned at her. "I told Dean I would protect you _and_   his children," he said sternly. "I would not allow you to die if there was anything I could…" He stopped talking and looked up sharply, as if listening to something nobody else could hear. "We have to go," he said urgently, stepping up to the young mother and her children. In a split second of vertigo, they were in Bobby's upstairs hallway and Cas was crumpled at Tasha's feet, a line of blood trickling from his nose.

The kids started to cry at the nauseating feeling of time travel, the unfamiliar surroundings, and at the frightening sight of their angel unconscious on the floor. Tasha calmed them down and made a quick trip downstairs to figure out where they were. Despite having only ever seen Bobby's kitchen and den once before, she recognized his unmistakable décor immediately and she called out to discover that nobody was home. She managed to haul Cas into one of the upstairs bedrooms, laying him down on a dusty bed that looked like it hadn't been used in years. The kids finally calmed down and she had just lulled them to sleep next to Cas when she heard a voice calling Bobby's name and her heart stopped.

It may have been five years since she'd heard it, but she would know that voice anywhere.

That was Dean.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**Present….** _

The Impala sailed past a signpost announcing one hundred and fory miles to Detroit as Sam was fiddling with the short-wave radio dial. The hisses and screeches suddenly turned to words as he located a clear broadcast and he turned the volume up, the wild panic in the man's voice giving both brothers some cause for alarm. What now?

… _Again nobody has any idea what caused this latest disaster. It seems the hits just keep coming. If you have loved ones in the area, my deepest condolences. There's no way anybody's walking out of there alive. If this is indeed God's wrath and we are facing Judgment Day, then the question begging to be asked is 'Why is this not happening anywhere else in the world?' No reports of un-natural disasters such as these are coming in. Many cell phones are still working so the satellites are still in orbit and the targeted places seem to be random, with no political or religious significance as far as anyone can tell besides all being in the United States. First a killer cloud over South Dakota, then Lawrence Kansas is swallowed up into the Earth, and now a giant explosion has wiped Hilham, Tennessee off the map…_

A strangled cry came from Dean and the car swerved violently on the road, screeching tires until it came to a stop with its front half on the gravel shoulder and the back end still on the pavement. Sam was gripping his door handle to keep from being thrown out of his seat, the significance of the news broadcast not having hit him yet.

He watched his big brother leap out of the car and run forward, stopping to plant both hands on the hood as if for support. His head hung forward and his chest was heaving as he gulped loud, choking gasps of air.

 _Oh shit,_ Sam's heart almost stopped _. Cassie was with Ellen and Jo in Hilham, Tennessee._

He immediately went for his phone, his fingers fumbling in his haste to dial Jo's number. He stepped out of the passenger door and moved around the hood towards his brother as he waited for the call to go through. Dean was practically hyperventilating and his fists were balled up tightly on the hood of the car. Sam's call got transferred straight to Jo's voicemail and he instantly hung up and dialed Ellen, only to get the same thing. His hands shaking now, he tried Cas. Cas's phone rang but there was no answer. When the voicemail beep sounded, Sam struggled to keep his voice from breaking.

"Yeah, Cas, we need you. Please get over here; we're a hundred and forty miles from Detroit on the I90." He hung up and dialed Jo's number again, fighting back the panic threatening to rise as he watched his brother's shoulders slump. Again, straight to voicemail.

Dean finally looked up. "Anything?" was all he managed to say.

Sam had no choice but to shake his head. "Jo and Ellen are going straight to voicemail," he said hoarsely. "But Dean, maybe…"

He was cut off by a loud strangled sob and his brother turned around and sank to the ground, his back against the Impala's front tire and his knees curled into himself. Sam moved quickly around the hood to stand next to him. Heaving sobs were wracking Dean's body as he buried his face in his arms and wept.

Sam was unable to move. His own share of grief was threatening to swallow him but the sight of his brother in such despair overrode his own. He had never seen Dean like this, even after their Dad had died and to be honest, it terrified him. He finally perched himself on the hood next to where Dean sat and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, feeling utterly helpless. Dean had just lost his daughter. As much as Sam had lost in his life, Jessica, Dad, Madison, even Dean, he just couldn't relate to what Dean was going through now. A vision of the little four-year-old entered his mind, her giggle and saucy attitude and Dean's eyes peering out from beneath the wild mass of blonde curls. Tears welled up in his eyes but he fought against them, determined to stay strong for the man who sat broken at his feet.

Dean's shoulders were still shuddering when he finally spoke. "She said keep them safe," he said in barely more than a whisper without lifting his face from his arms. "And I couldn't do that."

It didn't take a genius to figure out Dean was referring to Tasha's last words before she had begun firing at the propane tank. ' _Keep them safe!_ ' she had screamed at Dean, her eyes locking with those of her children's father for one last pleading moment. That horrifying moment almost seemed frozen in time in Sam's memory; he could only imagine how it replayed in Dean's.

"I've lost them both," Dean rasped between sobs. "Sammy and Cassie. God, Sam, I can't do this anymore. There's just nothing left in me … I can't … I'm done." Another loud sob escaped him. "I've lost everything."

"No, Dean." Sam's heart was breaking for his brother. "You haven't lost me." He slid down the black metal until he was sitting in the gravel next to Dean, their shoulders touching. "And you haven't lost your son. Lucifer's still got him and we're gonna get him back."

Dean didn't make any effort to move away but he didn't look up. "Lucifer killed Cassie," he whispered. "He knows they're my kids or he wouldn't have…" His voice broke again and Sam felt his shoulders slump in defeat.

"No," he said with as much conviction as he could muster. "You don't know that. "Remember what Crowley said. You can't fall apart on me now, Dean. Your son needs you now more than ever."

Dean lifted his head weakly. "My son's dead. I just can't anymore, Sam. This is worse than…God, Cas never shoulda brought me back from there."

Sam fought back a hitch in his own throat. His brother was actually wishing for Hell as a reprieve. "Don't say that!" he said pleadingly, a tear escaping past his defenses. "Yes, you _can_   keep going. For little Sammy, you can. I know you can."

Dean remained hunched over, wracking sobs once again shaking his body. Sam had never seen anything like it and he suddenly felt like the world was opening up under his feet and swallowing him whole. Dean had always been his rock and here he was …shattered, beaten, and completely broken. Wishing he was back in Hell. Ready to give up on his own son.

Sam took a few deep breaths and willed his composure back together. "Dean, our lives are fucked," he said finally. "I know that and you know that. There's been no hope for us since we were kids. But Sammy, he still has a chance, Dean. We just need to go in there, put a bullet in Lucifer's skull, and get your son outta there. Then this will all be over and at least he can stand a chance at a normal life. He can have what we never got. You can give him everything Dad didn't give us. He needs you, Dean. You can't give up on him now, he needs you. We need to do this for him."

It was as eloquent and inspiring a speech as Sam could put together at the moment and he leaned his shoulder and knee against Dean's in an accompanying gesture of support, hoping his brother was at least listening. They remained that way for a long time, ignoring the cars that veered around them, sometimes honking or even slowing down to catch a morbid glimpse of someone else's misery. Dean's sobbing finally subsided and he lifted his chin up slightly, resting it rest on his arms that were still folded over his knees.

"Sam," he whispered quietly. "I didn't think I could ever care about anything the way I did you. I mean, you were my little brother, you mattered more than anything. But Sammy and Cassie… I know I was only their dad for a few days but… I can't even explain it."

He didn't have to. "Well let's go get him then," Sam said encouragingly. "You're still a dad. You still have a son."

"And a brother."

"And a brother," Sam echoed softly.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	14. At Rainbows End

**~0~0~0~0~**

"Castiel, what are you doing here?" Balthazar hissed.

"I need to talk to you and Dabriel," Cas said quietly.

"You realize we are under strict orders to kill you on sight," Dabriel warned.

"Yes. But I am asking you, as two of my oldest friends, to hear me out first."

Balthazar narrowed his eyes at Cas. "You're not going to try and talk us into following your lead and disobeying are you?" he challenged. "Coz that didn't get you very far with Raphael. I heard he laid some serious smiting on you, brother."

"Yet here I stand," Cas answered defiantly.

"And who do you have to thank for that?" Dabriel snapped. "Lucifer?"

Cas gave him a long, hard stare. "God," he said simply.

Dabriel shook his head. "God is dead, Castiel," he said with a sad look. "Raphael has told us the truth, finally."

"And you just believe him without questioning?" Cas demanded. "Michael and Raphael are not God, as much as they would wish it so."

"I wish it wasn't the truth!" Dabriel snapped. "I wish our Father was here, telling us what to do, telling us how to save this world from the abhorrent disgrace that his greatest Creation has become. But he isn't."

"Right now, humans aren't the ones destroying the world," Cas pointed out. "Lucifer is."

"He's got a point there Dabriel," Balthazar shrugged with a humorous smirk.

"You just keep quiet," Dabriel raised his voice as he turned angrily to the third angel. "Doing what is necessary for the greater good has never been your strong suit. You just keep looking out for Balthazar like you always have and leave the thinking to the rest of us."

Cas didn't defend his friend. After all, Dabriel was speaking the truth. But of all the angels, these were the two he thought he could trust the most. Balthazar enjoyed the times he was assigned a vessel and got to walk the Earth with the humans. He derived a great deal of amusement from them, maybe even held a keen affection for them. As for Dabriel, he had always been a thinker, one able to see past the orders of Michael and Raphael. Cas was banking on that independence now and was encouraged by the fact that neither angel had killed him yet.

"Lucifer is in Detroit," he announced.

Dabriel narrowed his eyes at Cas. "You think Michael doesn't know where Lucifer is?" he sneered. "It's the Winchesters he wants to find, Castiel."

"Yes, you know, the brothers you ditched your own family for?" Balthazar chimed in.

"You know exactly where they are," Dabriel said accusingly. "Michael wants his sword for the big showdown and you're the only one that can give him Dean Winchester."

Cas was getting slightly nervous at Dabriel's tone. The angel hadn't even asked where the twins were. Surely Michael wanted the twins as badly, if not more so, than he wanted Dean. One of them was, after all, the deciding factor. "I won't tell Michael where Dean is," he said firmly.

"No, you won't," Dabriel concurred, drawing his angel blade. "I'll make sure of it."

With that he lunged at Cas, who barely made it out of the sweeping arc of the deadly blade as it sailed past his head with a hissing sound of rushing air. Cas drew his own in a flash and the two angels were suddenly ducking and weaving and clashing blades violently around the abandoned warehouse. Balthazar simply stood back and watched, clearly sticking to his old habit of looking out for himself first and waiting to see who came out on top before calling his allegiance.

"I thought you would want Michael to find Dean," Cas panted, pulling himself out of the crumbling concrete wall around him. "If he has his true vessel and Lucifer has an inferior one, Michael will be sure to win."

"I don't want Michael to win," Dabriel divulged. "I have had enough of his arrogance and his pining for our absent Father. Lucifer is strong and glorious and there are many of us who would follow him to see the abolition of the human race. They are an insult to our Father's name."

"You are a traitor!" Cas gasped, shocked to hear the words coming from his old friend's mouth. He had been fooled by Uriel and now by Dabriel. Was he really that naïve? How many more angels were on Lucifer's side? "You know this is not our Father's will!" he spat.

"Our Father is dead!" Dabriel hissed, lunging at Cas again.

"Then who spoke the Prophecy of the child?" Cas challenged. "It was neither Michael nor Raphael; they have admitted as much."

The disloyal angel shrugged. "What does it matter?" he said smugly. "Lucifer has the boy and he has destroyed the city the girl was in. We don't need them."

"What … what do you mean destroyed?" Cas gasped, his footsteps faltering in his sudden fear for Cassie.

Dabriel took immediate advantage of his misstep and lunged forward, slicing a good-sized gash in Cas's shoulder with his blade. Cas cried out as a searing pain surged through him and he fell to his knees.

Dabriel walked up to him slowly, knocking Cas's blade out of his weakened hand, reveling in his imminent victory. "Hilham, Tennessee," he gloated, looking down at the doomed angel. "That's where she was, right?"

Cas didn't need to answer. He was sure the look on his face was telling Dabriel everything he needed to know.

"Well, Lucifer destroyed it but an hour ago," the turncoat said coldly. "We couldn't find her specific location so we simply destroyed the whole filthy place." He raised his blade to strike. "And now I'll be rewarded greatly for destroying you," he said, sweeping his arms downwards.

Too weak to move out of the way, Cas simply closed his eyes, preparing for the inevitable. He was surprised, therefore, when the blow never came. Instead he opened his eyes to see Balthazar's blade protruding through Dabriel's chest, Heaven's light streaming out of his facial orifices.

Balthazar turned away to avoid the force of thebangel's death, shielding his face from the blast before turning back to Cas and extending an arm.

"Never really liked him anyway," he joked lightheartedly, pulling Cas to his feet.

"So, you're not…with Lucifer also?" Cas panted, clutching at his wound as he tried to steady himself.

"If you think Michael's insufferable, imagine what it would be like with that cad Lucifer in charge?" Balthazar grimaced.

"So you'll help me?" Cas ventured.

Balthazar stooped and picked up Cas's dagger and held it out for him. When the wounded angel didn't take it, he reached forward and wrapped Cas's hands around the hilt.

"Don't read more into this than there is, Cas ol' buddy," he said with a shake of his head. "I plan on telling everyone you killed Dabriel and I barely escaped with my bowels intact."

"But who will protect the other child?" Cas pleaded. "Lucifer has Sammy. Balthazar, I need your help."

"You just got it," Balthazar stepped back.

"At least find Joshua," Cas pressed. "Tell him. He alone knows where God is. God can put an end to this. Please, Balthazar, I cannot go into Heaven."

"I'm sorry," Balthazar said, this time with no hint of a smile before he disappeared.

Cas groaned, still clutching his shoulder in pain. A wound from an angel's dagger was different than that from any other weapon. An angel could bleed out from such a wound, even a small one. It wasn't actually blood that seeped out, however, it was Grace - an angel's link to Heaven's power, their life.

He collapsed to the floor, fighting to stay awake as thoughts of the little blonde girl who was no more passed through his mind, adding to the pain in an excruciating way he had only felt once before. He rummaged through his pocket for the cell phone Dean had given him and focused his eyes on the screen.

One missed call from Sam and one voicemail, both from less than an hour ago. He hit number one to check the message, praying the brothers hadn't heard the news while at the same time praying he didn't have to be the one to tell Dean.

" _Yeah, Cas, we need you. Please get over here; we're a hundred and forty miles from Detroit on the_ _I90."_

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Dean had eventually risen to his feet and allowed his brother to usher him to the passenger side of the classic Chevy. Sam sank wearily into the driver's seat and pulled slowly back out onto the road. Not five minutes had passed before there was a groaning noise in the back seat.

They both spun around to see Cas lying back there, glowing light seeping out of what appeared to be a line in his shoulder.

"Cas!" Dean cried, twisting in his seat and Sam yanked the Impala back onto the shoulder of the road.

"Cassie," the angel whispered, his face twisted in pain and his blue eyes laden with sorrow. As Sam watched, that intense shade of blue started to shimmer and quickly turned to white as light began to flow faintly from Cas's eyes also.

"Shit!" the young hunter swore, lunging the top half of his torso over the seat to clamp a hand down over the angel's eyes, closing the lids firmly. His other hand covered the line of light coming through the shoulder of the trench coat and as he pressed down, the car went dark again. "Cas what happened?" he demanded from his uncomfortable position hunched over the seatback but the angel had already passed out, head lolled sideways and his body half hanging off the Impala's leather seat.

Sam heard Dean's voice behind him, raspy and hoarse. "He okay?"

The younger Winchester nodded. "Yeah," he said confidently, having no idea if that was the truth or not. "Yeah, he'll be fine. He's just passed out, that's all." He slowly lifted his hand from Cas's face and was relieved to see the eyes had stopped glowing. He was no expert but from all he had seen so far, the light represented an angel's grace and if Cas's was coming out of his body, it meant he was dying. Since it had seemed to stop, perhaps that meant their friend would be okay.

He had to keep his hand pressed over Cas's shoulder wound for another ten minutes before it too stopped seeping light. He pulled his huge frame awkwardly back over the seat into the front and struggled to get his long legs back under the dash. Dean gave him an approving nod but didn't say anything more as they pulled back onto the road and continued towards Detroit.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

They were entering the Detroit city limits when Cas came to with a slight moan.

"Dude, what happened?" Sam demanded anxiously, trying to catch the angel's eye in the rear view mirror. "Were you in Tennessee?"

"No," Cas replied groggily as he tried to sit up. "But … but it has been … Dean, I'm afraid Cassie…she…"

"We heard," Dean said simply, letting him off the hook.

"I'm sorry."

There was a moment of deafening silence in the car, the air thick with unspoken grief and condolences.

"So what happened?" Sam asked finally. "Will they help get Sammy?"

"My meeting didn't go as well as I expected. It seems Lucifer has followers everywhere. I thought I could trust Dabriel but he was working with Lucifer."

"So now he's going to tell Luci that Sammy's my son!" Dean exclaimed, not hiding the fear in his voice. "Sammy's screwed!"

Cas shook his head. "No. I did not tell him the children are not Sam's. Besides, Balthazar killed him. He saved my life, actually."

"Can you trust this Balthazar?" Sam asked hopefully. "Will he help?" They could really use some more muscle, even the feathered variety.

"Balthazar has always marched to his own drumbeat, as you would say. He didn't turn me in. He wouldn't go so far as to join me but … I think I can trust him not to side with Lucifer."

"You  _think_?" Dean said worriedly.

"I'm sorry Dean. This was a bad idea."

"No, really? Now you're injured and frankly Cas, you were the best weapon we had."

"I feel much better," Cas lied. "I will be fine by the time we get to Comerica Park."

They reached the Detroit baseball stadium less than half an hour later but it was obvious to all Cas was nowhere near a hundred percent.

"You up for this?" Dean asked worriedly.

Cas nodded feebly. "I'm afraid I can't transport you anywhere," he admitted. "We will have to get in on foot. Be wary as there may be both demons and angels in there, all loyal to Lucifer."

Dean pulled on his well-used mask of fearless bravado and smiled. "Okay, so we have to sneak past Lucifer, demons, and turncoat angels, grab my son, shoot Lucifer, and get out of Dodge alive?"

"Yes," Cas answered bluntly, missing the sarcasm. "Only this is Detroit, not Dodge."

"Well, let's go then," Dean said with a nonchalant shrug of a shoulder as they started grabbing what weapons they would need from the trunk of the car. This list included holy water, salt rounds in shotguns, rosaries, flashlights, holy oil, the Colt - tucked in Dean's jeans, Ruby's knife - tucked in Sam's jeans, Cas's dagger - tucked up the angel's trench coat sleeve, and the spare angel dagger that Cas had taken from an angel he had killed in John Winchester's storage room. That one was assigned to Dean since both Cas and Sam insisted Lucifer's followers wouldn't be in a hurry to kill Sam but that Dean was top of their hit list.

They loaded up and headed towards a shielded portion of the fence under the cover of darkness. As Dean was cutting his way through the wire, he suddenly stopped and straightened up, turning to face the others with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"Listen, uh, Sam. Cas. Uh…thanks. For doing this, I mean. No matter what happens."

"S'okay Dean," Sam assured him.

"No," Dean raised a hand. "Just lemme get this out." He looked squarely at Sam. "This isn't your fault, Sam," he said firmly.

Sam was about to argue but Dean cut him off. "Just let me talk, for once, okay? I know I was pissed and I said some shit after the whole Lucifer thing but this isn't your fault. You didn't know, about Lilith I mean. You didn't know she was the last seal. I think we all know there's very little chance we're gonna make it out of this alive and … and this isn't even your fight. What I'm trying to say here is … I appreciate you being here with me."

Sam swallowed, knowing how hard that must have been for his brother but knowing without a doubt that Dean meant every word. His heart swelled in his chest. He had finally been forgiven. "This  _ **is**_  my fight," he said with conviction. "Sammy's my family too, remember?"

Dean nodded, looking slightly relieved and both brothers glanced over at Cas, their expressions unintentionally expectant. The pause suddenly became awkward.

"Oh, uh…" Cas stammered. "I would gladly give my life for Sammy's" he said finally, his tone serious despite his hesitant delivery. "Or for either of yours," he added, giving each brother a solemn nod.

An embarrassed grin appeared on Dean's face. "Okay, my bad," he said quickly turning to cut the last of the wires on the chain link fence. "Let's put the tampons away and get this thing rolling, okay?"

He shouldered his duffle bag and squeezed through the newly-made gap.

"Hey, you started it," Sam accused as he ducked to follow.

"Did not."

"Yes, you did," Cas countered.

"Shut up, bitches," Dean griped, smiling when he heard Sam muttering fondly under his breath behind him.

"Jerk."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

As with the warehouse where Meg had been holed up, they only encountered a couple of demon guards at the service entrance and took them out easily with Ruby's knife. Once inside, they also didn't encounter much resistance as they traveled through the maze of rooms and hallways beneath the bleachers, only running into the occasional demon, all of whom they managed to take off guard and defeat easily.

"This is too easy," Dean frowned suspiciously, half expecting to run into a herd of Hellhounds every time they rounded a corner.

"They aren't expecting us and they don't think were a threat. They don't know we have the Colt." Sam was trying to be optimistic.

"No," Cas told them. "Dean's right. This is too easy."

No sooner had he said the words than an attractive redhead woman walked in the far side of the storage room they were in. She locked eyes with Cas and smirked.

"Well well well, if it isn't Castiel," she said mockingly, drawing an angel dagger ominously from somewhere under her thin jacket.

Cas reciprocated, his own blade appearing out of his sleeve as he moved in front of the Winchesters. "Go," he said without turning to look at them. "I'll handle this."

Before Sam or Dean could argue, the female angel made the decision for them. "No, stay a while," she sang, waving her arm towards them. Both brothers immediately found their feet glue to the floor and they were unable to move. "Lucifer will want to have a few words with you," the woman added.

"Laylah, where is the child?" Cas demanded, his voice deepening as it seemed to whenever he got angry or emotional.

The woman gave him a gloating smile as they began to circle each other. "He's here,' she taunted. "Down in the deeps, just waiting to fulfill his only useful purpose so we can end his miserable, insignificant life."

Cas didn't reply; he just lunged at her and the fight got really violent really fast. As swords clashed and angel vessels flew into the walls, the room shook and it was all Sam and Dean could do to duck and try to avoid getting hit with falling chunks of concrete or blasts of force from the blows the angels were landing on one another. It was clear Cas was still feeling the effects of his run-in with Dabriel as he backed off to catch his breath and recuperate for a few seconds every chance he got.

Sensing her upper hand, the angel Laylah apparently couldn't resist gloating. "You're too late, Castiel. You should have joined our ranks while you had the chance. Lucifer was impressed with the way you defied Michael and Raphael. He would have welcomed you."

"I would never join him."

Still stuck to the floor by his feet, Dean refrained from making the obvious Darth Vader versus Luke joke as he watched helplessly.

"That'll be your undoing. Do you know what Lucifer is doing right now? He's out in the field summoning Death. You know, the Horseman. With Death at his command, he'll rid this planet of the parasites that inhabit it once and for all." She spat the last words directly at Sam and Dean, not hiding her disdain.

Cas took another swing at her but she easily avoided it.

"Think you can defeat Death, Castiel?" she laughed. "Look at what you've become, brother."

"I am not your brother," he spat back at her.

"No? Let me guess, these two disgusting sacks of excrement are your brothers now?" She gestured to the Winchesters, still infuriatingly stuck in place at the edge of the room.

"Yes," Cas said with conviction, taking another swing at her but again failing to make contact as she danced effortlessly away. He was weakened and she knew it. It was clear she was toying with him.

Cas circled around her, moving to the far side so she was in the middle of the room with her back to the brothers. He kept her attention as he watched Dean draw the spare angel blade and prepare to throw it.

"What you are doing is not God's will," he preached.

The blade sailed through the air from Dean directly towards the woman's exposed back. At the last instant, she spun, catching it in her hand and narrowing her eyes at the hunter who had thrown it.

"You don't really think…AHHHH!" She was cut off as Cas thrust his blade into her back.

"Close your eyes!" he shouted at the brothers, who obeyed immediately, squeezing them shut tightly and crouching to the floor for balance, not sure what was going to happen. There was a hum of energy and a the room shook, gusts of wind hitting them from every direction.

"You can open them now," Cas said calmly a moment later.

Dean did so to see the woman lying on the ground with giant black silhouettes of her wings spread out on either side.

"Thank-you," Cas said.

"Yeah, don't mention it," Dean breathed, still staring a bit wide-eyed at the figure on the floor.

"Come on," Sam said with renewed determination. "Let's go find Little Sammy."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Not sure what Laylah had meant by 'down in the deeps', the hunters and Cas decided to start searching the lower levels of the stadium. There were several levels to the structure, from the VIP skyboxes up top and the highest 'nosebleed' seats to the tunnels of mechanical pipes and equipment below the ground level.

As they continued their search, they were slightly heartened by the knowledge that Lucifer was out in the field so they just had to avoid that area until they found Sammy. Rescuing the boy was top priority; killing Lucifer was second.

Not so heartening was the revelation that they didn't have much time because, not only had Laylah's death most likely announced their presence, but Lucifer was apparently summoning Death at this very moment. They needed to get a bullet from the Colt into his skull before he succeeded because it seemed pretty unlikely the planet would be returning to normal anytime soon with the most powerful of the Horseman riding topside.

Also disheartening was the obvious pain Cas was in. The fight with Laylah had taken a lot out of him. He was soldiering on though and nobody felt the need to point out the obvious. Even injured, Cas was an asset and both Sam and Dean knew they needed him.

In the basement level, they made their way through endless corridors with pipes lining both walls. They peeked around a corner somewhere beneath center field, where Dean informed them there was a giant fountain that would go off when the home team scored, and saw three demon guards stationed outside a door. Three guards? This  _had_  to be where they were keeping Sammy.

There was a stretch of corridor about fifty feet long between them and the demons. Once they rounded the corner, the demons would see them coming and they couldn't chance one getting away to warn others. They needed a ruse.

"Okay, you're up Cas," Dean whispered, ducking back into the corridor. "They'll recognize us too quickly. Remember, just act like you're supposed be here. Same as what I told you with the Fed badges."

Cas rolled his eyes at him and walked casually around the corner.

"Hey, who are you?" one of the demons demanded, stepping forward into the corridor.

"Lucifer sent me," Cas said simply, not slowing his stride.

"We don't know you," the closest demon narrowed his eyes at Cas. "You with Laylah?"

Cas glared as he stepped right up to him so they were across the tunnel from one another. "No," he answered, striking the demon so hard the man flew down the corridor and crashed into the wall at the corner, slumping to the floor at the Winchesters' feet.

Cas stepped quickly past the door and turned to face the other two demons, trapping them between him and the advancing hunters. Sam had jabbed Ruby's knife into the demon who had been tossed and he and Dean had quickly revealed themselves to join the fight.

"Fucking angels," the demon spat, lunging at Cas.

"Fucking Winchesters," the other spat, directing his hatred at the advancing hunters.

Cas punched the first one hard and held him by the neck against the wall, unable to summon enough mojo to kill him. Sam finished him off with Ruby's knife as Dean rammed the spare angel blade through the third demon's neck, reciting fast Latin verses to exorcize him while he had him squirming and thrashing.

As soon as the black smoke had gushed its way back to Hell, Dean dropped the lifeless body in his hands and lunged for the doorknob. It wasn't locked and he pushed the door open, flicking on his flashlight and stepping over the body to get inside.

It was a mechanical room of sorts, probably for the operation equipment of the fountain, he surmised. With the power out, the room was dark and silent and giant hulking outlines of machinery loomed eerily in the field of his flashlight.

"Sammy?" he called out into the dark, moving in to search out the corners and the back of the room. "Sammy, you in here?"

"Daddy?" came a small voice from the back corner.

"Sammy!" Dean's heart began to pound in his chest and he rushed towards the voice just as Cas waved a hand at the light bulb above and a dim light speard through the room. Dean blinked as his eyes adjusted, desperately trying to focus to find his son.

There was a large piece of equipment in the corner with a blanket on the floor next to it and a bowl of what looked like oatmeal sitting untouched in its center.

"Sammy?" Dean called again, looking around frantically.

A tiny hand appeared first, curling around a corner from a dark crevice behind the equipment. A small, pale face appeared next, brown eyes wide with both hope and fear and blinking at him from under a flop of uncut bangs.

"Sammy!" Dean cried, his voice hitching as he dropped to one knee on the blanket to reach for his son and pull him out from behind the machinery, discarding the angel blade and his duffle as he did so.

"Daddy!" the boy sobbed, practically leaping out of his hiding place and into the open arms of his father.

Dean pulled him in to his chest and stood up, consciously making an effort not to crush him as he felt an overload of emotion rush through him and a sudden desire to squeeze him and never let him go. Sammy buried his face in Dean's neck and clung to him just as tightly, as if hanging on for dear life. "Oh God, Sammy," Dean gushed, closing his eyes and drinking up the wonderful feeling of holding his son -  _ **alive**_. "You're okay…it's okay …God I missed you little buddy…you're safe now…Daddy's gotcha…Daddy's gotcha now."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	15. Face of the Devil

**~0~0~0~0~0~0~**

Sam couldn't help but get teary-eyed as he watched Dean reunited with his son.

 _Geez, I_ _ **am**_ _a frigging girl_ , he thought ruefully, remembering the relentless teasing to that effect he had endured practically his whole life. He and Cas patiently stood back, allowing Dean a moment alone with Little Sammy, relief for both the father and the son flowing through them. It was no secret Dean would not have made it through this had Sammy not been found alive.

The little boy finally looked up, peering over Dean's shoulder. His eyes brightened when they landed on the angel in the now tattered-looking trench coat.

"Cas!" he cried almost joyfully, though he never loosened his grip on Dean's shirt.

The smile that the boy gave them was incredibly heartwarming and Sam couldn't help but feel a massive surge of hope rush through him, warming up his insides. Maybe this would work out alright. Maybe at least those of them that were still standing would be okay in the end.

He also couldn't help but think he had the most adorable nephew on the planet.

"Was I that cute when I was a kid?" he asked Dean, trying to prolong the lightened mood.

"No way," Dean grinned back at him. "These are my handsome genes all the way, dude. Just wait 'till he discovers girls."

"Cas, can we go home now?" Sammy interrupted, directing his question to the angel even though he was still settled quite comfortably in Dean's arms.

Cas smiled at the boy and nodded. "We can leave this place," he said evasively. It was too hard to explain to a four year old that what he considered his home was almost forty years in the past and it certainly wasn't the time to divulge that his new home would be without his mother or sister.

"Speaking of leaving…" Sam said slowly, not sure how to broach the news to his brother that Dean needed to get Sammy out of here while Sam and Cas went after Lucifer. After all, their mission here had been two-fold.

He was saved the trouble by the sound of a slow, mocking clapping from the entrance of the machine room. They all spun around to see a man standing in the doorway, his face lined with blotches and raw-looking patches of missing skin.

"Lucifer!" Sam and Cas hissed at the same time, both taking a step backwards to position themselves slightly in front of Dean and the treasure he was holding.

Dean's heart siezed in terror at the identification of the newcomer and he pulled Sammy in tighter to his chest as he looked the Devil in the eye. The last time he had been face to face with this douche the Morning Star had been wearing Sam as a meatsuit and had killed him – well, future-him but same difference. It was still terrifying to be standing ten feet from him with his son in his arms. He had never felt so vulnerable in all his life.

Lucifer finally stopped clapping and directed his gaze to Cas. "Bravo Castiel," he said, his voice silky smooth and ever so condescending. "It is Castiel, isn't it? I congratulate you. You had me fooled. You blocked the child's thoughts. I truly believed he was Sam's son. I suppose that'll teach me to rely on demon intelligence."

A bolt of renewed fear shot through Dean. _Please don't let me have come this far just to lose my son now_ , he found himself praying though he wasn't exactly sure who the prayer was directed at. God sure as fuck wasn't showing his apathetic ass in all this.

"Demons are an insult to everything our Father has done with this world," Cas said, squaring his shoulders defiantly as he faced one of the two most powerful of all his brethren. "You make a mockery of everything He created."

Lucifer's lip curled up into an unfriendly smile. "Harsh words for one who has disgraced himself and turned his back on Heaven," he replied, taking a step farther into the room. It was just a little step but the two hunters standing by Cas couldn't help but feel the huge intimidation factor that came with it. "Bit of the pot calling the kettle black, no?" He cocked his head sideways.

"God created man and He asked us all to love them," Cas fired back, swallowing his fear and holding his ground. "He gave them free will and I intend to follow His will and see that they keep it."

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at his fellow angel. "You dare speak to me of God's will?" he seethed. "You insignificant nothing who has never met nor even laid eyes upon our Father? You know nothing. Less than nothing. Yet you presume to come here and … and what?" He laughed and with a wave of his hand, the angel dagger Cas had slipped partially out of his sleeve to grasp the hilt went flying through the air and landed at Lucifer's feet. "You actually think you can kill me, Castiel?" he laughed again and there was nothing even remotely humorous in the sound. "You amuse me," he said frankly. "I think I'll save you for later."

With that he waved his hand again and Cas went sailing through the air, slamming into the far wall and sliding down to a sitting position on the ground at its base. Lucifer drew something in the air with his finger and a luminescent sigil appeared on the wall above Cas. The angel's face screwed up in pain and he tried in vain to pull away from the wall. It was obvious the marking had somehow imprisoned him where he was; weaponless, defenseless, and helpless.

"Relax," Lucifer mocked. "Take a seat." He smiled smugly and turned to face the brothers.

After seeing that Laylah was able to catch the dagger he had thrown at her in mid-air, Dean knew he couldn't chance shooting the Devil with the Colt from anything less than point blank. He slowly lowered Sammy to the ground, ushering him behind his legs. He knew in the back of his mind that the gesture was pointless, that if Lucifer wanted the kid dead he would be, but he had to follow his instincts anyway. If the Devil went for his son, the sonofabitch would have to kill him first.

It seemed Lucifer wasn't paying him any attention anyway for his focus right now seemed to be squarely on Sam.

"Hi Sam," Lucifer greeted the younger hunter as if they were old friends. "Nice to finally meet you in person. You aren't by chance, here to say yes, are you?"

"Never in a million years," Sam fired back through clenched teeth.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "A million years can go by quite fast," he said matter-of-factly. "But alas," he sighed, "I'm not that patient. You'll say yes," he ventured with apparent confidence. "Today, actually." His gaze drifted to Dean. "Detroit," he said with a sly smile. "How fitting."

Dean's brow creased in confusion.  _How could present-Lucifer know about the conversation he'd had with future-Lucifer?_   Was that future even real? Or was it written in some holy-shit prophecy somewhere that Sam would say yes in Detroit? Frigging angels and their ' _you can't escape your destiny_ ' crap.

"You're wrong," Sam argued. "It's never gonna happen. I told you that before. Nothing you can say can ever convince me to say yes."

Lucifer nodded with a conceding shrug. "Nothing I s _ay?_    No, maybe not," he agreed. "But _do_   is a different matter."

With that Sam watched horrified as suddenly Dean fell writhing to the floor, clutching his stomach and panting and gasping through obvious agony. The little boy who had been standing behind him screamed and ran to the back of the room, crouching down on his knees against the concrete wall and burying his head in his hands.

"Stop it!" Sam shouted, his anger boiling. "Stop it!"

"Say yes," Lucifer grinned, raising his voice slightly to be heard over Dean's strangled screams of pain.

"You said you wouldn't try to trick me!" Sam reminded him. "I was supposed to yes of my own accord!"

Lucifer shrugged. "Hey, nobody's forcing you," he said with a slight chuckle. "Completely your choice. Say yes and Dean lives, say no and…."

A loud scream of renewed agony escaped his brother. Sam looked desperately down at Dean. Every fiber of his being was telling him to just say yes, to buy Dean his freedom and allow his brother to walk away. He clenched his fists at his sides. "No," he said stonily, remembering Zachariah pulling the same ploy on Dean in their dad's storage room. If Dean had the strength to say no, Sam would do the same.

"No," he repeated. "Never."

"Never?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Not even if I throw in…let's see, if I throw your angel pal into the deal?"

Cas suddenly cried out also from where he sat, his eyes turning white as light once again began to stream out of them, shooting upwards into the room.

"No!" Sam shouted, averting his eyes as his heart pounded painfully in his chest. "No! No! NO!"

Lucifer let out an exaggerated sigh of annoyance and slumped his shoulders. "I like you, Sam," he said with about as much sincerity as a politician on a kissing-babies tour. "I didn't want to have to go this route but…"

He gestured towards the back of the room, outstretching his hand over where Dean was curled into himself on the floor gasping … aiming his hand towards Sammy.

"No!" Sam shouted, unable to hide the panic. He stepped quickly between the Devil and his nephew, his resolve finally wavering. "No! Don't!"

"Come here, little boy," Lucifer cooed, beckoning to the four year old.

Sammy's huddled form straightened out and rose up, drifting forward a few feet, clearly not of his own doing. The look on the child's face was one of pure terror and Sam lunged at Lucifer with Ruby's knife, the only weapon he had in his hands. He knew it wouldn't work but it was a move of pure desperation at this point.

He was stopped by an invisible force, freezing him in place right next to Dean just a few feet from Lucifer's vessel and its flaking face. "Please don't," Sam faltered, his defiance melting. Saving Sammy had been the top priority, he thought. Above everything else. _Everything_.

"Was that a yes?" Lucifer goaded with a smug grin.

The grin was wiped off his peeling face that instant when a sharp crack rang out and a round, dark mark suddenly appeared in his forehead.

"No means NO, you son of a bitch!" Dean ground out from where he lay on the floor, the smoking Colt still held outstretched towards Lucifer as the Devil crumpled to the floor.

Sam gasped and chortled in relief as he processed what had just happened. "Dean," he said breathlessly, stepping forward to help his groaning brother to his feet. As he did so, he glanced around to see Sammy curling up into a ball on the floor and the light stop streaming from Cas's eyes.

On his feet, Dean didn't rush to his son as Sam had expected. Instead he stepped a few shaky steps forward to stand over the prone form of Lucifer. He wordlessly aimed the Colt at the fallen angel's head and fired two more rounds before swinging the gun over his heart and emptying the remaining chambers.

"Welcome to Detroit," he sneered down at the motionless vessel.

Sam gave his brother an incredulous look and Dean just shrugged sheepishly. It wasn't like he usually thought before he opened his mouth. He turned and started towards his son, his heart twisting at the sight of the terrified little boy curled up in a ball on the floor.

Sam took a step towards Cas, who was thankfully showing signs of movement. The marking on the wall above him had stopped glowing and the angel's head was moving back and forth in an attempt to find alertness and keep upright.

It was the look in Cas's eyes that warned Sam. The blue gaze suddenly widened with alarm as it focused on something behind the young hunter and Sam spun just in time to see Lucifer pop back up on his feet with an enraged snarl and an outstretched hand.

The hand was directed at Dean. The elder Winchester was flung violently against the wall and held in place with a demon-style mojo as his body was turned around to face the pissed off Devil who was, much to Sam's dismay, still very much alive. The Colt flew from Dean's hand and smashed into a thousand pieces against the ceiling.

"There are only five things that gun couldn't kill," Lucifer seethed at the pinned hunter. "Unfortunately for you, I'm one of them. I've had enough of you and your wretched offspring. Time to say good-bye."

But before he could follow through on his deadly threat, Sam threw himself forward towards Cas's discarded angel dagger on the floor, snatching it up and in one fluid motion, ramming it into the enraged archangel's heart.

The room fell deathly still and silent for what seemed like a long, long moment. Sam let go of the dagger and staggered backwards, staring at the sight before him. Lucifer tilted his head downwards, wide-eyed with disbelief as he took note of the weapon's hilt protruding from his chest. He lifted his head back up to lock eyes with Sam and swayed on his feet before his eyes closed and he fell sideways to the floor in an almost graceful manner. It seemed to happen in slow motion and the impact of what he had just done took its time registering as the young hunter stood frozen in place, staring slack-jawed at the fallen figure.

Sam's focus was finally snatched from the scene in front of him by a scuffling noise behind him. He turned to see Cas on his feet, taking a shaky step forward.

"Get out, now!" the angel rasped, speaking to both brothers.

Sam turned to see Dean reacting instantly, scooping up his son in his arms and heading for the door. Sam grasped Cas by the arm sleeve and followed, tugging the angel along behind him. They had only made it a few feet into the mechanical corridor when the ground started shaking.

"Run!" Cas yelled, pushing both of them along the tunnel with a strength they were all surprised he had left in him. "Run!"

They had only made it fifty feet when the rumbling deepened and sudden, violent cracks in the walls were racing past them. Cas yanked both of them to a halt, pushing them to the ground with a deep, sharp command of "Close your eyes!"

Sam's last image was of his brother crouched next to him, Little Sammy tucked as far underneath Dean as the young father could get him, Dean's arms and body wrapped protectively around his son and one hand clamped over the boy's eyes. Cas skidded to his knees behind them both, almost mimicking Dean's pose and throwing his arms as far over the three humans as far as he could.

The next moments were terrifying. Being stuck in the underground tunnels of the park was the very last place they would have chosen to be in this situation had they been given that choice. The entire structure shook and seemed to crumble above them. Huge chunks of concrete fell all around them as the tunnel gave in to the excessive trembles. The brothers could feel them brutally impacting Cas as the angel hovered over them but neither hunter dared open their eyes to check on their friend. In the midst of it all, a giant blast of energy blew down the corridor, sending a chilling sense of fear and evil through every nerve ending the brothers had as it passed. It was followed closely by a flash of light that seemed to house a deafening scream as it too whooshed past the small huddled group. It took every bit of concentration and effort for Sam and Dean to keep their eyes closed as their bodies were roughly buffeted in every direction.

Cas remained where he was, a seemingly indestructible shield around them during the violent and angry storm.

The shuddering finally subsided, the light disappeared, and the walls stopped crumbling. An eerie stillness blanketed the now dark corridor.

Dean didn't open his eyes until he heard a cough next to him. He glanced up to see Sam just lifting his head, waving a hand to clear the dust-filled air in front of his mouth. Cas was on his knees with one arm still extended over each of the brothers. Dean instantly loosened his grip on his son just enough to peer down at him.

"You okay, Sammy?" he asked, his voice hoarse with the thick dust in the air. The boy didn't answer but Dean felt his little fists relax their terrified hold on his shirt and he was given a small nod when the brown eyes met his.

"Uh, dude, thanks but uh…it's over. Personal space, please?" Dean heard Sam saying to Cas, who sat up quickly and withdrew his arms, a flustered expression on his face. Chunks of concrete and debris fell off the dust-covered trench coat as the angel straightened up. He cleared his throat and moved to pull himself up to his feet, Sam just an instant behind him.

Dean couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, fueled by the tremendous sense of relief that was sweeping through him at the realization that they were all still alive. Banged up, but alive. He staggered stiffly to his feet to join the others, still holding a clinging Sammy close against him, and gave his brother a triumphant shoulder punch.

"We made it," he breathed. "You did it, Sam. You iced the freaking Devil!"

"No _we_   did it," Sam corrected, looking at both Dean and Cas. "We did it together."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You and your coombaya's Sammy," he teased. "Lucifer's dead and we're not. I say this calls for a round of Appletinis." He looked down at Little Sammy and grinned at him too. "Maybe an ice cream for you, huh? What do you say?"

Sammy nodded. "With chocwate?"

"Damn straight with chocolate," Dean chuckled, getting a narrow-eyed frown from his brother. "I mean, _darn_   straight," he corrected with a groan and an eye roll.

Sam grinned, feeling a huge weight lifted off his heart at the sight of his brother smiling. Dean still had a lot of grief to deal with and it wouldn't be easy but with his son to love and care for, he would make it. He would be a wonderful father and Sammy would get everything from Dean that their own father's obsessive drive for revenge had stolen from them. In the end, Dean would be okay. That was all Sam had really wanted going into this.

"We should get going," Cas pointed out, wearing his usual serious look. "There are still demons and rogue angels and…"

"Nah, see Cas, _you're_    the rogue angel," Dean cut him off good-naturedly as Sam turned on his flashlight and they began to move along the dim corridor. "These douches that sided with Lucifer are either turncoats or traitors. Rogue sounds so much cooler."

"Very well," Cas agreed, not sure if he was being made fun of or not. "I am the rogue angel."

Dean and Sam both snickered.

The lighthearted mood only lasted a minute for as they rounded the corner, they were greeted with a pile of concrete chunks and twisted lengths of rebar that extended from floor to ceiling. The tunnel had completely caved in. Sam climbed partway up the debris, shining the flashlight and scraping at the dirt, looking for an opening big enough for grown men to crawl through but found none.

"It's blocked," he announced, shaking his head. "If I squeeze up there," he pointed to a deep, dark crevice near the top, "I may be able to dig through but it would take a while. Probably quicker to go the other way."

The disheartened group turned around and headed back the way they had come, Cas walking with a decided limp. As they passed the mechanical room where Lucifer had been killed, all three adults turned their heads in morbid curiosity to see inside. There was nothing left; no machinery, no body, no floor. Just a massive hole in the center of the room about fifteen feet in diameter.

The doorframe was partially collapsed and Dean saw a strap sticking out from under a chunk of concrete. "My duffle!" he exclaimed with a chuckle and stooped to yank it free from the debris. Meanwhile, Sam stepped into the room and peered down over the edge of the hole, letting out a whistle at what he saw.

"It's deep," he told the others, coming back out to continue down the corridor and taking the duffle from Dean with an absent nod. "It's just black; I couldn't see the bottom."

Dean looked slightly alarmed and turned to Cas. "It doesn't go down to Hell, does it?" he asked. "Nothing can get out of that hole, right?"

Cas shook his head. "Lucifer was not sent back to Hell," he assured the hunter. "He's dead. His grace shot downward into the Earth before dispersing to nothingness. When angels die, their grace shoots upwards but since Lucifer was fallen, his essence was no longer welcome in Heaven."

Dean nodded his relief. "So, Cas," he ventured hesitantly, "what happens to you now? Thanks to you, Lucifer's dead without Michael having to lift a finger. I mean, that's what Zachariah and his henchmen always wanted, right? You gonna get your place at the dinner table back?"

Cas shrugged as he continued along the tunnel behind Sam. "I still disobeyed," he said. "Michael does not forgive."

"Michael's a douche," Dean stated simply.

"Yeah, a douche," Little Sammy echoed, grinning at them from where he was perched on his dad's hip.

Dean grinned sheepishly. "Jeez, I gotta start watching my mouth."

They continued along the maze of mechanical tunnels under the park. Every few turns they would hit another dead end, each blocked worse than the last. The hunters and the angel were starting to worry they wouldn't find a way out when they finally reached a doorway to a set of steps going upwards that was only partially filled with debris from the crumbled building above and therefore passable.

The stairs led them up one flight into a large storage room. The only other door at the far end was blocked, a fact they all agreed on after repeated attempts to shoulder it open. The only other way out was where the top of the wall on one side had caved in, leaving a six foot wide gap at the top through which they could see stars.

Sam shoved a couple of crates over, stacking them by the wall so he could stand on them and get high enough to see out the gap. As he peered out through the rough, crumbled edges of concrete, he gasped.

"Oh crap!" he breathed.

Cas stepped up next to him and together they surveyed the surroundings. They were looking out into the baseball field, or what _used to be_   the field. Now it was a mass of twisted metal, chunks of concrete, and stadium seats. Not a single part of the stands was still intact. Sam could see a few of the famous tiger statues scattered around, broken and crumbled among the debris. The Ferris wheel Dean had been telling them about when they first entered the park was twisted and sticking up high into the air on the opposite side of the field from where it had originally been built.

On top of that, there were a dozen or so demons milling about the rubble, no doubt devastated by the sudden death of their creator and leader.

"Are we homefree or what?" Dean asked impatiently from the ground. He was tempted to put Sammy down and climb up to take a look for himself but the kid had been through so much and was still clinging tightly to him.

"We aren't safe yet," Cas informed him.

Sam groaned as he noticed the demons seemed to be gathering, grouping at the command of one individual in a suit who stood atop a jutting piece of steel. He sighed. "We'd be better off digging our way out at the other end," he thought out loud.

"We'll never make it," Cas said ominously.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him and noticed Cas's eyes were darting all around the field outside.

"What are you seeing that I'm not?" he ventured.

"Reapers."

"Reapers?" Dean demanded from the ground, looking up at the angel. "As in plural?"

Cas glanced down at him. "Yes. A hundred at least."

"So are they here to reap Lucifer?" Sam asked, still staring out into the field but not seeing anything but the demons. Of course, he didn't know what a reaper would look like. The couple he'd seen before had looked human.

The angel shook his head. "No. They're here to greet their master. He has been summoned."

"Their master?" Dean couldn't help but repeat Cas's words again as he processed them.  _Just once, why couldn't something be easy?_

"Death," Sam answered for Cas, unnecessarily. "The Horseman."

"Oh great. Death's got a fan club. Cas, any chance you can zap us out of here yet?"

"No," Cas looked more than apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Dean said quickly. "You did good, Cas. We can make it back along the tunnels and dig our way through the other end just like Sam said. We'll get out that way."

"But if Death's topside, we need to stop him," Sam interjected.

"We just took out Lucifer," Dean argued. "Death can be a fight for another day."

Cas gave him a solemn look. "If Death walks out of here, there may be no other days."

Dean felt the familiar weariness soak right through his bones again at the angel's call to arms. _Why couldn't they catch a break? Get one frigging moment of peace?_

"But the Colt's destroyed," Sam said thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. "How do we kill him?"

"You can't kill Death, only disarm him," Cas informed them.

Dean nodded. "We just need to hack off a finger. All we need is the ring, like War, remember?"

The man in the suit outside turned his head towards them and Cas suddenly drew a sharp intake of breath and jumped down off the boxes. He stepped over to the duffel bag and yanked it open. "You need to get out of here now!" he said forcefully as he began to haul out the weaponry, laying it on the ground.

Sam jerked his head to glance back outside, barely hearing his brother below demanding what was going on. The demons were now following the man in the suit and they were heading right for the hole in the wall, clambering over the rubble towards the tattered group's hiding spot.

"They're coming!" he shouted, jumping off the boxes to grab a shotgun. "They know we're here!"

"The sigils on your ribs don't hide you from reapers," Cas admitted.

"Shit!" Dean swore, lowering Sammy to the ground to grab a weapon also.

Cas grabbed his hand, pulling it away. "That man in the suit out there is Grigori," he said briskly. "He's an angel and now that Lucifer is dead, it seems he's in charge. He would have helped Lucifer in summoning Death. Whoever summons him…"

"Controls him," Sam finished despairingly.

Cas nodded. "I don't see Death yet but those reapers outside were reporting to Grigori so Death's here somewhere and he's tethered. I'll hold them off but you three need to go right now. I won't be able to stall them for long and you have yet to dig out that hole."

"No, we all go right now," Dean said sharply, scooping Sammy back up into his arms.

"Cas, you can barely stand," Sam pointed out. "I have the knife," he added, pulling Ruby's blade from his jeans.

Cas locked eyes with the younger Winchester and nodded gravely, handing him the jar of holy oil.

"No!" Dean repeated a little more sternly, eyes wide as he realized what Sam was suggesting. "We _all_   go."

"We all won't make it out, Dean," Sam told him. "There are twenty of them plus an angel plus Death and his reapers. We'll just end up trapped in the tunnel trying to dig our way out and we won't stand a chance. We need to hold them off here while you get Sammy out. You need to go…and fast."

Dean stood his ground, shaking his head. "No," he growled adamantly. "I'm tired of this shit! Nobody else is dying. We're all getting out of here."

"Dean, please," his brother pleaded urgently.

"No, Sam. I'm not leaving you here."

"Dean."

"No, Sam, no." He turned to the angel. "Cas…"

"Dean please," Sam pressed. "I need to do this. I need for you to get out."

"I need _you_   to get out. After everything else … Sam…" Dean's voice hitched. "I'm not leaving you here."

"You have to."

"I can't let you do this for me!"

Sam sighed and closed his eyes for half a second. "'Then let me do it for your son. Let me do it for Sammy." He gave his nephew a half-hearted smile. "This is about family, Dean. Always has been with us. Just remember what I said," he told his brother. "Promise me you'll give him what we never had."

Dean's rebuttal came in a choked whisper. "No, please."

Cas finally spoke up. "This is our choice to make, Dean," he said firmly. "Please go."

The sound of the approaching enemy was growing louder outside. Dean tried to force his feet to turn him around and carry him down the stairs into that tunnel but they just weren't ready to budge. He knew he was keeping them from readying themselves. He knew he had no choice but to go; he _had_   to get Sammy out of here, but it just wasn't in his nature to leave his friend to certain death, and his brother…

"Daddy," Sammy said quietly. "Daddy I'm scaywed. Can we go home now?"

Dean swallowed a sob and nodded, unshed tears pooling in his eyes as he looked back towards Sam and Cas.

"Thank-you," he choked. "Both of you." He nodded to Cas then cast a final, lingering glance at his brother before turning away and running down the tunnel, carrying his son towards his only chance for safety.

**~0~0~0~0~0~0~**


	16. Redemption

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Sam and Cas worked quickly, knowing they had only a matter of seconds to prepare for the oncoming attack. Sam poured a circle on the floor with the last of the holy oil while Cas scribbled a couple of charcoal devil's traps on the ground in front of the opening and one in front of the stairs down which Dean had disappeared. The young hunter grabbed two shotguns and tossed one to the angel, who tossed it right back.

"My aim is somewhat lacking," Cas shrugged sheepishly.

Sam managed a grin and laid the spare at his feet, instead handing over Dean's angel dagger since Cas's had gone down with Lucifer. "Well I _know_   you can handle yourself with that," he praised his friend.

Cas nodded appreciatively and the two of them moved to stand shoulder to shoulder in front of the tunnel entrance door as the first demon appeared at the gap in the wall.

"Winchester! You're dead!" the black-eyed man threatened almost gleefully upon seeing the hunter.

As he scrambled in, Sam fired a single salt round at him and he fell back with a pained scream. Sam caught Cas's eye and the two shared a chuckle.

"Sam?" Cas addressed him as they waited for the next attacker to appear.

"Yeah?"

"I would like to say that I admire you."

"Huh?" Sam was a bit taken back and felt more than a little awkward at the comment, not sure what his response was supposed to be.

"You've made a lot of mistakes" Cas continued. " _A lot_ of mistakes," he added, arching an eyebrow at the hunter, "But no matter what, you keep going. You keep trying, picking yourself up and soldiering on. You have a brave and valiant soul, Sam. I admire that."

"Oh.  Uh, thanks Cas, I guess," the hunter stammered. He turned his head to look at the angel standing at his side - this angel that was about to willingly die to protect Sam's brother and nephew. "Really," he said more seriously. "I mean it. Thanks. For everything.  What you've done for Dean…"

That was as far as he got because three faces suddenly appeared at the opening and Sam started firing salt rounds at them. Two of them fell backwards but the third scrambled in and leapt over the devil's traps only to find himself impaled on the end of Cas's dagger. Cas flung the screaming man to the floor next to Sam.

"Finish him off for me?" he asked nonchalantly and Sam obliged, sinking Ruby's knife into the demon's stomach.

A few more front runners showed up, a couple of which got through, but they were all taken care of quickly before Cas looked up sharply towards the outside wall and groaned. "Mother shit," he said, much to Sam's amusement.

Cas's over-enunciated and inaccurate attempt at profanity didn't provide levity for long, however, for two seconds later the entire exterior wall simply dissolved to reveal the man in the suit standing behind it with a dozen demons flanking him.

"Grigori!" Cas hissed, readying his dagger.

"Castiel," the angel replied with obvious disdain. "Do you realize what you have done?"

He took a few steps forward and Sam couldn't believe their luck when the ignorant moron walked right into the invisible circle of holy oil. The hunter struck alight the booklet of matches he had fished from his pocket and tossed it forward, igniting the ring and eliciting an enraged snarl from the now-captive angel.

Cas took a quick step back from the deadly flame at his feet and lunged at a nearby demon. Sam grabbed the spare shotgun and blasted a few that were advancing his way before thrusting Ruby's knife into the neck of another. They were badly outnumbered and more demons kept appearing through the opening. Even with Grigori out of the equation, it became painfully obvious they weren't going to last much longer, maybe not long enough to give Dean sufficient time to dig his way out of the other end of the tunnel. Both of them kept fighting, giving it everything they had in hopes of lasting a few breaths longer and giving a few more precious seconds to Dean and Sammy.

Cas was swinging wildly with both his angel blade and his fists. Even injured and mojo-less, he still possessed a strength and grace equal or superior to that of the demons lunging themselves at him in their determination to make the most of the rare opportunity to hurt or kill an angel. Sam felt a wave of relief that despite the crappy odds, Cas was holding his own and standing his ground because the young hunter wasn't faring nearly as well and their failure here just wasn't an option – Dean's life was on the line.

Sam wiped a streak of blood from his mouth and sprang back to his feet after taking a strong hit to the face. He sank Ruby's knife into the shoulder of a female demon but took a hard blow from the one right behind her. He felt a jarring pain as his ass hit the cement and had just raised a hand to fend off the demon's attack when the unexpected happened.

Everything stopped. Everything - as in the demons, Grigori, and even the flames of the burning ring of holy oil. The entire room around them simply froze in place, leaving only Cas and Sam free to move.

Both panting with exhaustion, they threw each other baffled looks as they stepped back towards the tunnel stairs to regroup.

"What's going on?" Sam asked nervously.

Cas shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted.

Sam decided not to waste an opportunity and he stabbed the closest frozen demon with Ruby's knife. The demon didn't budge, didn't flinch, but didn't fall down dead either.

Cas gave him a nod of approval and Sam moved around the room doing the same to the half dozen other demons in the room. When he was done, he looked over at Grigori before turning back to Cas, who nodded again. Sam took the carved angel blade from his friend and stepped towards the freakish, still flames of the oil ring.

"Now I hardly think that's fair, do you?" came a man's voice from behind the circle.

Sam and Cas both jumped, Sam turning to hold the Enokian dagger out towards the unknown voice. An elderly and friendly looking black man stepped into view through the space where the wall once was.

"Joshua!" cried Cas, clearly aware of who the newcomer was.

"Castiel," Joshua spoke the angel's name in return, clearly the customary manner of angel greeting.

"Cas?" Sam asked warily. "You know this dude?"

"I have been trying to get a hold of him since Lucifer was freed," Cas explained with a nod. "He is an angel. The only angel who still talks to God."

Joshua laughed as he stepped up to them. "I think you've been misled, Castiel," he denied. "I am simply Heaven's Gardener. I don't talk to our Father, nor do I know where He is. But He does speak to me from time to time."

"Did He send you here?" Cas asked hopefully.

Joshua smiled and Sam couldn't help but get a friendly vibe from him, unlike the thinly-veiled disdain most angels he had met directed towards him. He felt his tense muscles relaxing just a tiny fraction.

"I imagine you will be surprised to know that Balthazar practically begged me to intervene on your behalf," he said. "He can be quite persuasive when he wants something badly enough."

Cas couldn't hide the mild shock that showed on his face at the unexpected revelation. Balthazar had stuck his neck out for him – twice? It would seem he had not given his old friend enough credit.

"But you would not have come simply because Balthazar asked you," Cas pointed out, still hoping this was God's doing.

"Did you freeze everybody?" Sam interjected, gesturing around the room.

"Freeze? No, Sam. Time has simply stopped flowing for a spell so we can talk."

"Talk about what?" Sam was wary. Friendly or not, the guy was an angel and Sam didn't trust any angel that wasn't wearing a tattered beige trench coat.

"The prophecies. The Words of God."

"You mean the phony crap Zachariah was feeding Chuck this whole time?" Sam accused.

"No. I mean the real prophecies. The ones about the Righteous Man and the sixty six seals, the child of the vessel..."

"That one never came to pass," Cas interrupted. "The child will not be used as a pawn for Michael's gain." He narrowed his eyes in defiance. "And and in preventing this," he added, "We have shown that destiny is not necessarily predetermined, that everyone and everything has free will."

"Believe what you will, my friend; but the Word of God will yet be fulfilled," Joshua said confidently.

"Lucifer's dead," Sam argued, his volume rising at what he interpreted as a vague threat to Dean and Sammy. "There won't be any big fight between him and Michael so you just leave Sammy out of this."

The older angel raised an eyebrow at the young hunter. "I believe you are mistaken, young man. The prophecy has nothing to do with the fight between Michael and Lucifer. There was never going to be a fight."

"But it said the child would decide the outcome of the battle," Cas said, his brow knotted in confusion.

"No Castiel," Joshua shook his head and smiled. "You weren't privy to the full prophecy. Perhaps I should fill you in. The part you are referring to reads as such. _And a child shall be born to the last of a valiant bloodline and one of the true vessels for the champions of Heaven and Hell. This child's presence will turn the tides of the final battle in favor of the child's father, bringing death to one Champion and his vessel_."

There was a silence as Cas and Sam tried to wrap their heads around the different interpretations of the words.

"It did not say the battle between Michael and Lucifer," Joshua pointed out. "It said the final battle. It's no secret the archangels are known for their arrogance and both Michael and Lucifer assumed this was a reference to their final showdown. It also says the child's presence shall benefit its father, not the archangel they both believed would be hosted by this vessel at the time of the battle."

"So Dean lives?" Sam asked hopefully.

Joshua shook his head once more. "I don't know the answer to your question."

Cas took a step forward. "Hogwash," he blurted, inadvertently using one of Tasha's kid-friendly expressions. "God knows if Dean lives or dies."

A sly smile spread on the elderly angel's face. "I'm sure He does, but I am not God."

"Fine," Sam countered, "you talk to God, so ask him."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"So what are you doing here then?" Sam demanded.

"God sent you, right?" Cas accused.

Joshua gave them a slight nod. "Yes."

"Why?" Sam's patience was wearing thin.

"You just killed an archangel, Sam."

Sam swallowed hard. Joshua's smile had disappeared. "So what, is God pissed?" he asked warily. "I mean, Lucifer was trying to wipe out the human race."

"It wasn't the outcome our Father expected," Joshua shrugged. "And I'm afraid the worst is yet to come. The Horseman Death is on Earth and under the control of Grigori," he gestured towards the frozen angel in the circle of holy oil flames. "God decided that He would intervene on your behalf one last time."

"About fucking time!" Sam spat, visions of all the people he had lost in the past ten days fueling his anger. Why couldn't God have inter- _fucking_ -vened six weeks ago, _before_   Sam had started this whole ball rolling by killing Lilith?

"Why now?" Cas echoed Sam's thoughts, though his husky voice was quiet and his expression almost sad.

Joshua gave Cas a long, hard, look that was difficult to read before turning to Sam. "You have found your way back, Sam," he said cryptically. "And it is a miraculous feat for a human to have defeated an archangel."

"That doesn't answer the question," Sam said impatiently when the old man paused for a moment. "Are you going to stop Death?"

Joshua shook his head. "I am merely a gardener," he told them. "I cannot stop the most powerful of the Horsemen. But Death and I," he paused again, glancing at Cas before continuing, "Death and I have an understanding."

"What does that mean?" Sam demanded.

"It means I am not here to stop Death, nor can I interfere in what is to happen here. I simply came to offer you one free pass, in light of what you have overcome."

"A free pass?" Sam's heart skipped a beat. That sounded like good news.

"Yes. You will not die here, today, Sam Winchester. Like before, when I put you and your brother on that plane in Maryland, I have been instructed to take you to safety before Death seeks you out."

"Did you get Dean and Sammy out already?" Sam gushed, relief pouring through him.

Joshua shook his head. "This offer is for you only."

A painful knot seized his chest. "What about Dean?"

"It was you that defeated Lucifer, not Dean."

"So what, you're just gonna leave him here?" Sam's voice was strained with fear and anger. "And his four year old son? _To die?"_

"Their fates are not in my hands."

"Then let me trade in my free pass," Sam bargained desperately. "Give it to Dean."

"That's not possible."

"This is God we're talking about here! Anything's possible."

Joshua shook his head slowly.  "And what would you have God do, Sam?"

"Undo my mistake. I mean letting Lucifer out..."

"Like a do-over?" Joshua's laugh was clipped and lacked the friendly mirth of his earlier ones. "You don't get do-overs. You have to live with the choices you've made and their consequences.  Your brother has to live with their consequences also." His tone sharpened. "Or _not_   live, whatever the case may be.  Your heavy conscience is your own doing."

"I don't care about my conscience!" Sam was getting desperate. "I care about Dean! Look, leave me here but get him out. Give him my free pass.  Just let him start over and raise his son in peace. No demons, no angels, no vessels or big suck-ass destiny. After all he's done and been through, he deserves that much. God must surely see that."

"I simply do as I'm told, Sam. This is not a negotiation. Let's go."

"No!" Sam said defiantly, taking a step back. "I'm not leaving. Dean needs more time."

"How much time do you really think you can give him?" Joshua asked, looking around the room of frozen demons. "You may have killed these demons, but there are two dozen more just outside this room. There are also a hundred reapers and Death himself with strict orders to kill you all. Do you really think you stand a chance once I release Time?"

Sam shook his head and squared his shoulders. "Doesn't matter. I just have to last a few minutes."

Joshua let out a deep sigh and turned to Cas. "Castiel," he said quietly, extending his hand. "Brother. Let us go back Home. I shall put in a good word for you and perhaps all can be forgiven. As you know, I have some pull with the heavyweights."

Cas took an immediate step sideways to stand next to Sam. "No," he said, also declining the angel's offer. "I stand with the Winchesters."

Joshua arched an eyebrow in surprise. "But you will die," he stated incredulously. "Are you saying you would give up the eternal life of an angel for the slim chance that you may grant Dean Winchester a bit more of the brief flicker of life humans are given? Another few decades at most?"

"Yes," Cas said simply.

Sam's stomach wound itself in knots and his jaw flexed as he started to try and convince Cas to take the offer but instead he held his tongue. Dean needed time to dig out that tunnel, which meant Dean needed Cas because Sam was sure he wouldn't last long enough by himself - not if Joshua was telling the truth about the number of demons to come.

Joshua shrugged and gave them both a nod. Sam couldn't help but think the glint in the old man's eyes seemed vaguely approving. "Very well," he said curtly and disappeared.

Instantly, all the demons in the room dropped to the ground, skin flashing as they died from the stab wounds Sam had given them. Sam tightened his grip on the handle of the angel dagger and took a step towards the ring of fire again. The trapped angel was moving once more, spouting futile death threats at the hunter as if time had never stopped and Joshua had never shown up.

Sam never made it into the ring for the room was suddenly teeming with demons. Joshua had been right; there were at least a dozen approaching fast, black eyes and angry snarls all directed at Sam and the angel in the beige trench coat. The first couple charged and Cas and Sam were thrown back into fighting mode, desperately trying to stay alive and take out as many of the enemy as they could.

Then came the kicker.

An older man in an expensive tailored suit stepped up to the opening. He had an angular face with drawn-in cheeks, protruding cheekbones, and a crow's-beak nose. Sam noticed the nervous glances and the wide berth the demons were giving him and could tell by the defeated look on Cas's face that this was Death, the most feared and the most powerful of the Four Horsemen.

_Damnit, Dean needed more time._

Cas had never seen Death before, nor could he see any visage or independent being within the man who had appeared suddenly across the room from the door he and Sam were defending. There was simply an air about him, an unmistakable presence that would belie any argument that this was anyone other than Death. That, of course, and the dozen reapers that walked solemnly behind him, their faces hollowed out, gaunt, and void of emotion.

The demons stopped their attack, pulling back as the Horseman moved towards the tattered angel and the weary hunter. Many of them scampered away, their fear of Death outweighing their lust for vengeance towards the ones responsible for slaying their beloved creator. A smug sneer appeared on Grigori's face as he folded his arms across his chest, clearly confident he would be set free soon.

Cas stood about fifteen feet from Sam and his worry spiked when the Horseman turned to stride calmly in the direction of the hunter. Cas lunged forward to intervene but was stopped by four reapers who grabbed him forcefully and restrained him by the arms. He struggled with all his remaining strength to free himself but without the power of Heaven, he was helpless against them.

He let out a strangled cry as he watched Death knock the blade from Sam's hand with a casual flick of his wrist and step right up to the tall hunter. "Sam!" Cas cried, his body sagging into the hold of the reapers as he watched with horror while the young hunter took his last breaths, unable to avert his eyes from the despairing sight before him. Death reached up and touched the side of Sam's face, caressing it almost softly. Sam's fighting instantly ceased and he slumped bonelessly to the ground, his short and violent life suddenly over.

Exhausted, defeated, and overcome with a fresh torrent of sorrow, Cas drew on his last reserves to keep fighting. Dean needed more time. Little Sammy needed more time. He owed this to Tasha, to Bobby, and to Sam. None of his friends were going to have died in vain.

He heaved and kicked and flailed in an attempt to break free from the strong hold the reapers had on him but to no avail. He snarled in frustration as Death stepped over Sam's still body and walked slowly towards him, flanked by more of his reapers, one of whom had stooped to pick up the angel dagger from the floor.

Death stopped a mere two feet away from a restrained Cas, his face emotionless and calm. He spoke slowly and softly and his voice held not a single ounce of fear or intimidation despite the fact that he was addressing an Angel of the Lord.

"Hello, Castiel," he said smoothly. "It seems we find ourselves in a predicament."

Cas's eyes flickered to the lifeless form of Sam Winchester on the ground behind the suited man and his jaw clenched. "We?" he snapped. "You're an abomination."

The man's beady eyes narrowed. "You should show me some respect, angel," he said coolly. "You have no understanding of what I am."

"You're Grigori's bitch," Cas said defiantly, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head chastising him for mimicking Dean's impudent cockiness.

"Kill him!" Grigoei shouted angrily from where he was still trapped within the circle. Cas found it vaguely amusing none of the demons nor Death had made any effort to put out the flames and release him. The reapers restraining Cas, however, held their unbreakable grip on his arms.

Death pursed his lips and waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder. The flames grew in height, effectively creating a wall between Grigori and the rest of them that drowned out the angel's continued shouts.

"There," Death said simply. "Some privacy."

"Don't you have to obey him?" Cas asked apprehensively.

The Horseman nodded. "I will," he said, his casual response sending chills down Cas's spine. "But I would like to explain a few things first."

"Explain?" Cas was thrown and found himself at a loss for words. _Death wanted to have a chat?_

"I like order," he told the angel. "Order isn't a balance between God and the Devil, as many believe. Neither is it a balance between Good and Evil or Heaven and Hell. Do you know what order is, Castiel?"

Cas tried to think what smart-ass answer Dean would make with but couldn't come up with anything so he simply shook his head.

"Order is a balance between Life and Death," the Horseman told him. "God is the Creator of Life. _**I**_ am therefore, His counterpart. Not Lucifer. _ **I**_   am his equal." He didn't seem bothered by the way Cas's eyes widened in disbelief at the blasphemous self-proclamations. "As such," he continued, "I will not stand for being summoned to do His bidding. Worse, now that He is gone, I am at the mercy of his followers, an insignificant angel named Grigori." He gestured behind him at the wall of flames blocking the angel in question from view. "That simply will not do."

"You are not my Father's equal," Cas managed, his words coming out in a low growl.

Death ignored his argument. "Like I said, you have no idea what I am, young angel. But my apologies, I am boring you," he said with a hint of a smile. "What I want you to remember is that it is all about the souls. Lucifer may be dead but there is another who would wreak even more havock and cause even more chaos than your fallen brother would have. I don't like chaos. I like order." He leaned forward and reached towards Cas, who felt a bony hand touch his elbow.

"Your touch doesn't work on me," Cas spat gruffly. "I'm still an angel. Even you can't kill an angel."

"Oh but I can." Death moved so close his head was inches from Cas's. "A gift," he whispered in the angel's ear before withdrawing and nodding to the reaper next to him.

Momentarily confused at the comment and by the creepy way Death had leaned in towards him, Cas glanced sideways just in time to see the reaper draw the angel dagger and thrust it forward into his stomach. A blinding pain tore through him and he was sure he screamed as his Grace shot upwards, streaming violently out of poor Jimmy and dissipating to nothingness in the Detroit night air.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Dean scraped and jabbed frantically at the dirt in the collapsed roof of the tunnel, his six-inch silver knife being the only tool he had with him. Tears were falling freely down his dirt-streaked face but he was completely oblivious to their presence because he could barely think past the thumping pain in his chest.

"You okay, Sammy?" he called down into the tunnel below for the fifteenth time, desperate to make sure his son was still there, still safe. After the loss of his father, Tasha, Bobby, Cassie, Ellen, Jo, and now probably Cas and Sam, the little boy was the only thing he had left; the only thread holding Dean together.

His breath hitched at the sound of the tiny voice. "Yes, Daddy," it said, the impact of the sound far outweighing the volume. He increased his effort again, scraping his already raw and bloody knuckles even more and slamming his shoulder into the solid block of dirt and concrete above him.

This time, finally, he felt some give and immediately threw his bulk at it again, ignoring the painful knocks and scrapes of the falling chunks. He gasped and let out a muffled cry of bittersweet triumph when his hand finally met cool air on the other side. Another minute of frenzied clawing and he had widened the hole enough that he could squeeze his frame through.

He dropped back down into the tunnel and beckoned Sammy to him. The boy's eyes widened in fear at the dirty, bloody state of his father but he stepped up to him and was quickly scooped up into Dean's arms. "Okay, we're getting outta here Little Buddy," he said as soothingly as he could before clambering back up the debris and hoisting the boy through the hole.

He forced himself through the tight opening also and made his way through the wreckage of the stadium towards where the car was parked, Sammy held tightly against him. He allowed himself a brief flicker of hope that maybe Cas and Sam were still okay and could follow him but realized there was no chance of that even before he got his brother's voicemail in his ear.

Miraculously, he never encountered a single demon or angel and in less than two minutes, he was fumbling to open the driver's door of the Impala. With a weary shudder, he sank into the front seat, lowering Sammy onto his lap, held close to his chest. A muffled sob escaped him as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, suddenly overcome with relief, exhaustion, and grief.

He became aware his eyes were heavy and his mind was suddenly clouded and foggy. He forced his lids open, panicked that he would pass out. He couldn't afford to falter now; he still had to get Sammy to safety. He forced his head up, reaching for the keys in the ignition but was disoriented and confused by the strange feeling of softness beneath him.

His vision and his senses cleared slowly and he found his fists clawing at the soft sheets of a bed instead of the Impala's weathered leather.  His head was cradled in a plush pillow and he felt the welcoming softness of a mattress beneath him. He bolted upright, blinking in the dim light to see he was indeed lying on a bed in a room he didn't recognize.

_Shit_ , he realized, _he had passed out_. Had someone found him and brought him to safety? This wasn't a hospital though. His eyes were still roving and his mind spinning when he noticed the form of a person under the covers next to where he lay on top of them in his clothes. He was about to touch them when another realization hit him.

_Where was Little Sammy?_

"Sammy?" he cried hoarsely, pushing himself up farther, all other thoughts leaving him.

The figure next to him jerked upright at the sound of his voice and Dean instinctively threw a hand up defensively as it turned to face him with a female-sounding gasp.

His brain hadn't registered who it was before she turned and saw him sitting there and jumped back in fright, tumbling herself gracelessly off the bed and onto the floor in a tangle of bedsheets. Dean did notice her hand sweeping back up under her pillow and by the time recognition struck him, Tasha was standing again, her knife held out in front of her in an defensive position.

"Who the fuck ... oh shit!" she gasped, the fear leaving her face immediately as their eyes locked. "Dean?"

Now it was Dean's turn to scramble off the other side of the bed in shock. "Tash?" he stammered, his hand subconsciously going for any weapon he could find. _What was she? Demon? Ghost? Revenant?_

"Dean, what are you doing here?" she demanded, her breathing still heavy. "You ever heard of knocking? You scared the shit out of me. Is everything okay?"

He stood in stunned silence, his jaw hanging open.

"Dean, what's wrong?" she asked, laying the knife down on the dresser and instead picking up the flask of holy water she always kept there, a wary look on her face.

"Oh shit," he breathed finally, the explanation finally dawning on him. "I'm dead. I died right?" he asked her. "I'm in Heaven." He wiped his hand down across his face. "What about Sammy?" he pleaded. "Did he make it out?"

"Out of where?" Tasha asked, her face full of concern. "Dean, you're scaring me. What happened?"

"I must have failed," he thought out loud. "I didn't get him out. I thought we'd made it." He looked at her again. "So are you really you or a dream you or ... how does this work?" he breathed. "Do you know if Sammy's alive?"

Tasha's brown eyes were suddenly full of pity and concern and she dropped the holy water on the bed, clearly deciding he wasn't a demon after all. She stepped around the obstruction towards him. "I don't know about Sam," she said slowly. "Where were you guys? Can you tell me what happened?"

Her words were barely registering as Dean processed the situation in his mind. He had to be dead; there was no other explanation. So this was Heaven? Scaring the crap out of Tasha in the middle of the night? And she didn't seem to know she was dead. He glanced at her to see she was wearing small cotton shorts and a tight t-shirt. Okay, she looked good, but she wasn't even naked. Surely she would be naked in his heaven.  And so much for the seventy-two virgins theory.

"Sammy and Cassie?" he blurted, hoping that if this was to be his eternal resting place, at least his kids would be here also.

"Dean, you gotta tell me what happened," she was saying, reaching out to rest a hesitant hand on his arm. "What happened to Sam and Cas?"

"No, not..." he sighed, the mention of his brother and his friend twisting his heart in a knot again. "Fuck," he said quietly, his shoulders slumping. "I blew it. I lost everyone. I got everyone killed. Everyone's dead."

She gasped and her hand flew up to cover her mouth for a second, brown eyes wide with shock at his statement. She rushed forward and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a fierce hug. "Oh God, Dean. I'm sorry.  I'm sorry,," she whispered in his ear. "I'm still here. I'm here for you."

He returned the hug, tempted to just forget everything and go along with this weird Djinn-type reality that he concluded must be Heaven. They stood in the dimly-lit room for a long time, his arms wrapped around her slim shoulders as she practically held him up. He surprised himself when his chest heaved and a sob escaped him. She didn't say anything but simply bore his weight as he leaned heavily on her and wept, his face buried in her hair.

Eventually the sobs subsided and he found himself emotionally spent - again. Jesus, he must have cried more in the past week than he had in the entire rest of his life. He pulled gently away and gave her a half-hearted smile. He could see tears in her eyes too and wondered briefly why Heaven wasn't all smiles and happiness like it was supposed to be. He sank down on the edge of the bed with a weary sigh, not sure what to do or what to feel. Except for the lack of physical pain and the smell of burning flesh and the fact that Tash was here with him, this didn't feel any better than Hell had. His heart was still twisted in pain and loss, the type of pain he would trade for physical pain any day of the week.

Tash gave him a long, concerned look before announcing she was going to go get him some whiskey and slipped out the bedroom door. He was too tired to move so he just sat there on the edge of the bed with his shoulders slumped and a bone-deep weariness tugged at his every sense.

A few minutes later she stormed back in, a cell phone in her hand. "Dean, you've gotta tell me what's going on," she said firmly. "I called Bobby and he told me about Sam and the demon blood thing and how you had him locked in the panic room to detox and that he got away. He says you and Sam had a fight then you and Bobby were just talking ten minutes ago when you just disappeared. Ten minutes ago - in South Dakota. How'd you get here to Vermont so fast? Bobby thought it was angels." She frowned at him. "Dean, what's going on?" she repeated when he didn't answer right away. "Did Cas bring you here? Why are you saying everyone's dead? Did you find Sam again?" The questions just kept rolling out, each one poking a small hole in Dean's Heaven theory.

He just gave her a blank look, his head once more spinning. "This is Vermont?" he asked finally, doing the math. Tasha had been in hiding in Vermont until ... until he had texted her with a '911' warning to split right after Lucifer had been popped from his cage. Was this _before_    that? Everything she just described pointed to the circumstances the day Sam half-choked him in that motel room and Zachariah snatched him from Bobby's living room and trapped him in that angel-mojo holding room. "I was just talking to Bobby ten minutes ago?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she nodded, holding up the phone. "He says you just disappeared and..."

"What's the date?" Dean demanded.

"Uh, May 17th, I think," she answered him.

Dean sprang to his feet and grabbed the phone. "Bobby?"

" _Yeah_? _"_   came the gruff reply.

"Oh, God, Bobby!" Dean breathed out on the tail end of a short laugh. "You ... you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice, old man," he restrained his joy for fear of another embarrassing emotional display. He covered by immediately grilling the elderly hunter on everything that had happened in the past few days until he was finally convinced he wasn't in Heaven but was somehow six weeks back in time, the day _before_   Lucifer was let out, only this time he was definitely _not_   stuck jerking off in Zachariah's cheeseburger-and-beer-filled luxury suite while Sam unknowingly unleashed the Apocalypse.

"Holy shit," he breathed, grinning at Tasha, his mind reeling with the possibilities. "It's like I got given a do-over.  How the Hell did I get a do-over?"

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	17. The Song Doesn't Remain the Same

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

 

Five minutes later, Tasha was struggling to haul her jeans up over her sleep-shorts as she was practically dragged down the hallway by a suddenly re-animated Dean. He fidgeted anxiously as she crammed her feet into her boots by the front door. She had just one on when they were startled by the distinct sound of a shotgun being pumped.

Dean's hand flew behind him to retrieve his .45 that was hopefully still tucked in his jeans but Tasha grabbed his wrist.

"No wait!" she cried, holding her other hand out towards the elderly man that had appeared from the direction of the stairs. "No shooting, please! It's alright!"

Dean relaxed as much as he could with a loaded shotgun pointed at him but didn't draw his own gun for because he quickly recognized the man as Karl, the hunter that Tasha had been staying with. "Hi Karl," he offered with a cocky smile.

The man narrowed his eyes and gave younger hunter an unfriendly look. "Do I know you?"

"Karl, this is Dean," Tasha informed him, her hand still held out in a gesture for calm. Dean chuckled, realizing that although he had met Karl and his wife Helen on the night Sammy and Cassie had been conceived, that night hadn't happened yet. The fact that Karl looked the same as Dean remembered him and that the guy didn't recognize Dean just added credence to the hunter's new theory that he was somehow six weeks back in time and not just dreaming.

At the mention of Dean's name, the old man's face immediately relaxed and he smiled, glancing back and forth between the two young people in his living room with a raised eyebrow. Dean chuckled, suddenly feeling like he was being busted bringing a girl back home after her curfew by her overprotective father. He had liked the retired hunter and his wife and wouldn't have minded sharing another scotch with him but just didn't have the time to spare.

"I hate to be rude, Karl," he said apologetically, "but we gotta get going."

"Yeah," Tasha added, yanking her second boot on and swinging the door open. "Apparently we have an Apocalypse to stop."

"Oh, okay then," Karl simply shrugged, lowering the shotgun to his side. "Well, you kids have fun."

Dean grinned. "Don't wait up," he winked cheekily at the old man before following Tasha out the door.

There was a cool breeze outside and a definite chill to the Vermont air as dawn spilled its first hints of pink into the Eastern horizon. Dean glanced around with curiosity to see where Tasha had spent the past year and noticed the retired couple's house and yard were modest but well-kept and on a quiet, tree-lined street with a single streetlamp flickering twenty yards away. He couldn't help but think it was actually kind of nice and it occurred to him how much he would have liked to have spent it with her instead of chasing seals and demons and being used as a pawn by angels and demons both. There was an old beat-up truck in the driveway but the brunette steered him right past it to a sleek, red classic Challenger parked at the curb.

Dean's mouth spread into a smile at the sight. He wasn't big on the color but the car was a beauty. "I think I should drive," he said quickly.

Tasha was already approaching the driver's side but she stopped and grinned over the car's hood at him, giving him a roll of the eyes and a conceding nod. She turned on her heel and headed back towards him, handing him her keys as they passed each other in front of the car. His fingers brushed hers as he palmed the keys and he couldn't help but twist around, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back towards him.

"It's so good to see you again," he mumbled, pulling her into a fierce hug. She gasped in surprise at the gesture but didn't pull away.

"I'm the one who should be saying that," she pointed out after a few seconds, her voice muffled into his shoulder. "You just saw me yesterday. I haven't seen you in a year."

Dean didn't clarify that she had died over a week ago; he just sighed and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before releasing her and taking a step back. He had only barely figured out what seemed to be going on and things were happening so fast that he hadn't divulged the whole story to her yet. The two realities were still a ball of confusion in his own head so he had simply explained to her that Sam was going to be at a convent in Ilchester, Maryland with Ruby and at midnight and would unknowingly open Lucifer's seal by killing Lilith and that six weeks from now, Sam and Cas had almost certainly died in a stand-off with demons and angels and Death the Horseman.

"Oh yeah, right," he said simply and headed towards the driver's door. _It didn't matter_ , he thought, _because she wasn't going to die this time_. He glanced at the two silver rings on her keychain as he inserted her key into the ignition, recognizing them as the wedding bands that her father had made for himself and her mother. He remembered Cas explaining how Tasha had worn her mother's on her finger for five years in a make-believe marriage with the angel as they had raised the twins together a decade before Dean was even born. _That wasn't going to happen this time either._

The car roared to life and purred as he pulled it out into the street. He was quiet for a few minutes, lost in his thoughts. He and Sam had been separated when he had gone to see Tasha in Wyoming and he was pretty sure it had been a Friday. That would make it June twelfth, about three and a half weeks from tonight. If he was to conceive the same two kids, he would have to make sure he and Tash had sex on that same night - right? Did it have to be the same way? The same time? How was he going to make sure the same two of his swimmers hit that fricking egg? For the first time since he had been miraculously given this second chance, he felt a pang of fear about a potentially different outcome. 

"You're quiet," Tasha observed as she studied his face from the passenger seat.

He turned to face her, his mind still focused on his children. "You ever think about having kids?" he blurted.

Her eyes widened in obvious alarm. "Kids? Fuck no," she answered quickly. "Besides, I can't get pregnant, remember? Hunt gone wrong about six years ago."

"I mean if you could."

She gave him a confused look. "I'm a hunter, Dean, with no real name, no real job, no real home," she said finally. "I'm not cut out to be a mother, so honestly, no."

Dean swallowed, trying to hide his disappointment in her answer. "Are you saying you would never even consider it?"

"You working up to telling me something?" she confronted him, looking wary. "Have you found out you've got a kid? Some ex-girlfriend or something?"

He managed a grin. "No," he answered quickly. "No kids yet...that I know of, anyway. I'm just asking if you would consider it."

"I haven't seen you in a year and that's the question you throw at me?" she laughed nervously. "This isn't your biological clock kicking in, is it?" When he didn't answer, she sighed and adopted a thoughtful look, biting her bottom lip. "I've never wanted kids," she said slowly. "I'm not mother material. I would seriously suck as a mom. And I can't have them anyway, but … but I suppose with, you know, with the right person … I guess I'm saying that with you, I'd consider it... if it was something you really wanted."

Dean couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face. That was a start. He had just over three weeks to convince her. No problem - he knew she would do anything for him if he asked her the right way. He just had to stop this Apocalypse then he could get to work changing her mind.

"So how you liking your car?" he asked her, shifting the subject before she got too curious. She had been given the Dodge a year ago as a thank-you gift from the leader of a biker gang when Dean had saved his life.

"I love it," she grinned at him. "It's just the right mix of me and you."

"Huh?"

"Well, it's red and sporty just like I like my cars and it's bad ass," she glanced over at him with a cheeky grin, "just like you."

He laughed and signaled to get on the highway ramp. Jesus, it was hard to believe that twenty minutes ago he was mourning everyone he cared about, including Tasha, his brother, his best friend, and his daughter and here he was now - _laughing_.  His heart was racing with renewed hope and a surge of optimism of the possibilities for the future.

"So when you first showed up," Tasha ventured, interrupting his train of thought. "You thought you were dead and in Heaven." She averted her gaze and sounded almost shy. "So that would mean I'm in your idea of Heaven, huh?"

He nodded without hesitation. After watching her die and subsequently losing almost everyone in the world he really cared about, he wasn't going to be a slave to his insecurities anymore. Life was too short for that. He had believed nobody could ever love him, but here she was doing just that. He thought he wasn't worth a damn, but his brother had just sacrificed himself for him. He thought his life would never mean anything, but he had created – _would_   create – two of the most amazing kids on the planet. He thought he could never live up to his father's expectations, but _two_   father figures had taken the bullet to spare him, John Winchester and Bobby. He thought he hadn't deserved to be raised from Hell, but Cas had seen fit to give up everything, including his own life, to save him yet a second time.

They had all loved him and he had suddenly been given most of them back. He was insanely lucky and had so much to live for; he had just been too wound up in self-loathing and guilt to see it until it had all been taken away. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Wouldn't be Heaven without you in it, Tash," he answered her, surprising even himself with the open admission.

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?" she smiled, sliding a bit closer to him on the seat. She leaned her shoulder against his but after a moment, her smile faded. "In your future," she said slowly, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

He sighed and nodded.

"How did I die? Tell me I at least went down fighting the good fight."

"Don't worry, you did. You went down in a serious blaze of glory," he told her. "Literally."

She nodded her apparent approval. "So you gonna fill me in on the past year or what?"

He took a deep breath and did just that, repeating everything he had told her six weeks ago when he had shown up at the cabin in Wyoming, drunk and falling apart. He told her he remembered Hell and what he had done there and about Sam and the demon blood and Ruby. He told her of the angels and how they had been planning on springing Lucifer all along, including Cas. Cas of this time, at least, because he wasn't going to flip to Dean's side for another sixteen hours or so, which had turned out to be too late first time around.

Deep creases in Tasha's forehead belied her efforts to absorb everything he was telling her and keep it straight in her head. She narrowed her eyes at the revelation that Cas had betrayed Dean. "Fucking pussy," she spat.

Dean shook his head. "It's hard to go against orders when you've lived your whole life doing nothing but obeying them without question," he said, able to relate. "Don't judge him. He came through for me big time in the end."

"Yeah, well, he won't be making it onto my Christmas list anytime soon."

Dean had to laugh. "Trust me," he said. "I have a feeling you and him will get along fine."

He spoke sparingly of the details _after_   Lucifer had been freed, the parts that hadn't happened yet since he was determined to change all that anyway.  He left the kids out of the recap altogether. He'd need to work up to that revelation slowly because if he didn't think he could convince her to agree by the night they were conceived, he wasn't planning on telling her. It had been a surprise to her the first time and he wasn't above letting it be a surprise the second. Maybe that was low and sneaky and underhanded, but he knew she would love the kids anyway - he'd seen that first hand - and he was _that_   determined to ensure he would get them back.

"So how do you think you got zapped back here?" she asked as he finished the update.

"Honestly?" he gave her a hesitant look. "God."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

"So you'd better go get that self-loathing sack of puss and bring him here for safe-keeping."

Zachariah's nasally voice made Cas jump and he felt mildly disoriented for a second.

"Knowing him he'll probably manage to electrocute himself before Michael even gets down here."

Having died and been brought back before, it only took Cas a couple of seconds to figure out he was alive again. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, realizing also that his Heavenly power was back. The wound from Dabriel was gone. The fatal stab wound from the reaper was also gone.

"How the honor of being Michael's Sword could possibly be fated to such an unworthy, ignorant, fornicating bag of filth, I'll never understand." The older and superior angel was still talking, completely oblivious to Cas's bewilderment as the trench-coated angel looked wildly around the luxury holding room Zachariah had created. He remembered this exact situation happening before. Zachariah had voiced his extremely low and colorful opinion on Dean Winchester in great length.

There was something different than when he had been brought back to life after Raphael had killed him. Something about the air... was it Heaven's pull? No, it was something about time. Time was different. Last time he had been dead for almost two days and when he had come back, those days had passed. Time was fluid and angels could sense it, feel it, even bend it and shape it slightly when necessary. It was like a liquid constantly flowing around them and it was with a start that he realized exactly when this was.

This was the day before Lucifer rose, about seventeen hours before he was set free. Cas gasped audibly.

Zachariah spun to face him at the sound, his narrow his eyes at him disapprovingly. "Something wrong, Castiel?" he snapped. "You're not having doubts again, are you?" A nasty smirk formed on his lips. "We can always take you back upstairs for a little more re-educating."

Cas shuddered, remembering the pain and torment that he had incurred the first time when he had been caught trying to warn Dean of what the real plan was. "No," he covered quickly. "I am fine. I will go and get Dean Winchester."

With that, he disappeared, hoping Zachariah hadn't being paying enough attention to him to figure out that he wasn't today's Castiel but the Castiel of six weeks into the future. He took himself to a quiet, grassy park first, needing a moment to think and figure out what was going on and what he should do next. Standing in the park at dusk he reached out with his mind, trying to locate his older self. Past-Cas had so much doubt and guilt at this time that he knew it wouldn't take much to convince him to turn on his brothers and help Dean out a little sooner this time around. It was forbidden for an angel to contact oneself in the past or future but at this point, that didn't really matter. Two Cas's were better than one.

As he probed, what he found was alarming and inspiring at the same time. There was no Past-Cas. That was when he became aware of what had really happened. Angels could move through time and even move humans through time but they couldn't actually alter it or affect it or stay out of line for long. He hadn't traveled back - he _was_   back. Essentially, his future self had replaced his old self. 

_This meant he could change things._

No angel could pull that off, not Joshua, not Raphael, not even Michael. Only ... Cas felt a burst of faith and justification and hope erupt inside of him ... only God.

He remembered Joshua's vaguely approving nod before he had disappeared right before the Horseman Death had shown up. Had this been the plan all along? Were Cas and Sam just being tested? God had been known to test his subjects and their faith in the past; it wouldn't be the first time - for example, Abraham and Isaac.

He closed his eyes to try and locate Dean but couldn't. That was slightly worrisome because the Dean of this time did not yet have the markings on his chest and Cas should be able to zone in on his charge instantly. He shuffled his feet and frowned, before realizing he already knew Dean would be at Bobby Singer's house, same as he had been the last time. As he moved, Jimmy's coat flowed around him and he became aware of a tiny weight that hadn't been there in the tunnels of the baseball stadium. He cocked his head sideways as he slid his hand into the coat pocket and pulled out a ring.

Death's ring.

As a young angel low in the ranks, Cas didn't know much about the Horsemen's rings other than what they looked like, but he did know it wasn't in his pocket by accident. He remembered Death leaning in close to him to whisper in his ear. That nudge of the elbow he had felt must have been the Horseman slipping the ring into his pocket. " _A gift_ ," Death had whispered.

Then there were Joshua's cryptic words. " _Death and I ... have an understanding_."

Cas knew then he was meant to do something with the ring. Something that both God and Death wanted to happen. He rolled it between his thumb and his forefinger, trying to figure out what that was.

He had been given this chance to stop Sam from killing Lilith and freeing Lucifer but surely the angels would just find another way. With the demon hordes of Hell and the entire Host of Heaven both vying for the same goal, what chance did the humans really have? It would happen eventually. Sixty-five seals had been broken - there was no unbreaking them. It wasn't likely that Sam could forever avoid being tricked, threatened, or beaten into killing Lilith and Cas shuddered at the thought of the Winchesters living the rest of their lives hunted by every angel and demon on the planet. _And_ _Tasha_ , it occurred to him. Tasha, his friend, was still alive and would be in danger also.

The only safe option for Dean, Tasha, their future kids, and the rest of humanity was to kill Sam.

Cas swallowed. No, he wouldn't even entertain that option. He wouldn't - _ever_ \- which of course meant humanity was screwed.

Unless ...

Cas knew the four rings of the horsemen had always been a part of Lucifer's prison. This was the reason War, Death, Pestilence, and Famine couldn't be raised until Lucifer was freed. But exactly what role they did play, he didn't know.

But he knew somebody that would. He vanished from the park, startling the groggy homeless person who had been sleeping under a nearly bench, eyeing the trench coat-wearing man warily.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Dean fidgeted nervously as he held the phone to his ear, not really sure why he was so intimidated by the owner of the number he was dialing. He was a good six inches taller and at least fifty pounds heavier.

" _Yeah?"_   came the curt greeting.

"Ellen?"

" _Yeah, who's this?"_

"Hi Ellen, uh, it's me, Dean." There was a silence. "Dean Winchester."

" _I know which Dean. Jesus, Son, it's good to hear your voice. I heard tell you were among the living again but .._." her voice trailed off and he heard her clear her throat. " _Would seem old Rufus was right_."

"Yeah, 'fraid so," he grinned into the phone. At least this time he wasn't getting smacked.

" _Course the rumor was you came topside almost a year ago_ ," she added, her voice sharpening and he winced. " _What, you forget how to use a phone_?"

"I'm sorry Ellen," he said sincerely. "Things were just so messed up. _**I**_ was so ..." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have called."

" _Never you mind that_ ," she assured him quickly. " _I'm just glad you're back. Word is it was angels_?"

"Uh yeah," Dean acknowledged.

" _Listen, Jo and I are finishing up a hunt in Montana,"_ she told him _. "You and Sam anywhere near? I wouldn't mind seeing you with my own eyes."_

"Uh no, I can't right now, but why don't you and Jo swing by Bobby's place? Sam and I'll be back there in the next couple of days. It'll be nice."

He could hear her chuckle through the phone. " _Did I just hear right?"_

"Yeah, yeah," he smiled. "Listen, Ellen, I shoulda called you a long time ago. You and Jo, well you're like family to me and Sam and ..." He wasn't sure what else to say; Hallmark moments had never been his thing, but he felt like he needed to get this out. "I should've realized that a long time ago," he concluded.

" _I feel the same way, son_ ," Ellen replied quietly. " _We'll see you in a couple of days."_

"Good. That's good."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Balthazar was a Keeper of Artifacts. He knew almost everything there was to know about every weapon or angelic artifact in existence so Cas was sure he would know about the rings of the Horsemen. An added bonus was that in this time, Castiel had not yet gone rogue and could go see his old friend with minimal risk of being captured or killed.

Finding Balthazar, however, proved to be more difficult than he had expected. he finally tracked him down and found him in the Heavenly memory of an ancient Sheik. He was sitting in a tent on a pile of pillows and being fed succulent fruit by two very scantily clad women. Cas couldn't help but give his old friend a disapproving look.

"Castiel!" Balthazar greeted him cheerily, showing no shame. "I'm surprised to see you here. Aren't you on Winchester duty?"

"Yes," Cas answered curtly. "That is why I am here."

"Well you look stressed, Cas Ol' Buddy." Balthazar gestured towards an empty pile of pillows with a grin. "Take a load off. I can assure you, Giselle here gives the best massages."

"I hardly think this is appropriate, Balthazar." Cas shifted uncomfortably and averted his eyes when the topless woman straightened up and turned to face him with an expectant look. The Sheik was sprawled on the other side of the pillows giggling, his attention completely focused on the four other women draped all over him and oblivious to the angels crashing his memory.

"Didn't you hear? Lucifer's being freed tonight," Balthazar shrugged. "This may be our last chance to enjoy Heaven's simple pleasures. Who knows what this place is going to be like after Michael does his restructuring. Thought I'd indulge a little."

"Balthazar, I need your help."

The smile disappeared from his fellow angel's face and he sighed loudly. "This isn't going to get me in trouble, is it?"

"No...but I would prefer if you didn't repeat our conversation, at least until after tonight."

Balthazar groaned. "I haven't seen you in three hundred years, Cas. You don't call, you don't write... And now you show up trying to drag me into your little rebellion." Getting no reaction from the grave looking angel in the trench coat, he rolled his eyes. "I heard what happened to you last week. Got a little 're-educating' did you? Well, before you say anything, you should know that I'm not up for following in your footsteps."

Cas smiled knowingly. "You'll come through for me, Balthazar. I have faith in you. But right now all I need is some information."

Balthazar narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "About what?"

Cas pulled the ring from his pocket, smirking at the stunned look on Balthazar's face as he recognized the powerful trinket. "I need to know how this works," he said bluntly.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

It was a ten hour drive from Karl and Helen's place in Norton, Vermont to St. Mary's Convent in Maryland so Dean and Tasha arrived in Ilchester just before suppertime. They made their way immediately to the convent, an abandoned series of buildings within a tall, stone wall, only to find it completely empty except for a solitary security guard. Dean remembered a report after the 'explosion' at the convent that had mentioned a security guard had been killed so they threw a few covert demon tests at him and when he proved to be just human, Dean slugged him, tied him up, and tossed him in Tasha's trunk. After laying out a few not-quite-complete devil's traps with clear gluesticks, a trick Tasha had learned from Karl that made them invisible to the naked eye and easy to quickly complete when needed, they packed up and left.

Dean remembered Sam telling him that he had shown up just before midnight, only a few minutes before Past-Dean had arrived, and that he had found Lilith here alone.

"That makes sense," Tasha nodded as he explained this while they got back in the Challenger. "Since Lilith wanted Sam to kill her, she wouldn't want any other demons around with itchy trigger fingers blocking his path."

"We're not gonna try to interfere with Lilith," Dean pointed out. "She's as strong as demons come and Crowley's still got the Colt.  And supposedly Sam's the only one who can take her out anyway." He frowned with thought as he started up the engine. "We just wanna intercept Sam but I don't know where he is right now so we'll have to wait. We'll go stash the security guard somewhere safe, grab a bite to eat, and then we can come back here and hunker down somewhere hidden to wait for him and that bitch Ruby to show up."

Half an hour later found them munching on fast food from where they were parked fifty yards down the street behind an off-duty window-company van.

Dean swallowed his last mouthful and scrunched up the wrapper, tossing it on the floor of the car.  He looked at his watch and sighed, deducing aloud that Past-Dean was currently holed up in Zachariah's green room, which was why he wouldn't show up until it was too late.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Tash exclaimed at his comment. "Are you telling me there are _two_   Deans running around right now?"

Dean shrugged. "I think so." There had been two when he had gone forward in time to 2014.

A huge grin spread over the brunette's face and Dean could almost swear he saw her lick her lips. "Oh," she said simply. "Think of the possibilities."

He snorted but had to laugh at the look of wide-eyed amusement on her face. "Are you saying one of me's not enough?"

"Hey, a girl can never get too much Dean Winchester."

"Is that so?" His lip curled into a sly smile. "Hmmm. Well it looks like we got a few hours to kill," he said with a suggestive arch of his brow, twisting in the seat and leaning in towards her. "Got any ideas on how to pass the time?"

He didn't have to offer any further coaxing because her lips were on his before he even finished his sentence. He breathed a chuckle into her mouth as he returned the kiss. "Not even gonna try to play hard to get?" he teased, his hand sliding around her waist and pulling her closer to him.

"Are you kidding?" she answered through shortening breaths spoken huskily into his ear. "I've wanted to do that since you first showed up this morning. 'Bout time this car got broken in."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Lilith and about ten demons showed up around ten o'clock that night but Dean and Tasha stayed hunkered down in the front seat of the Challenger and out of sight, waiting for Sam. A thirty second conversation with his brother was all Dean needed to save the world and everyone he cared about. Besides, Sam had said Lilith had been alone when he had shown up so the entourage would surely split before then.

Sure enough, the minions all left about quarter to midnight but Dean groaned when he watched the three cars they were leaving in pull over just up the street, their engines and lights switching off. Clearly they had been ordered to make themselves scarce to not scare Sam off but they weren't about to completely miss the arrival of the Morning Star himself. This could make things difficult even if they did manage to escape from Lilith, a feat Dean still hadn't figured out yet how they were going to pull off since they couldn't kill her this time round. He swallowed and spared a glance at Tasha, the rush and closeness of their earlier love-making still coursing through him and making his heart thud loudly in his chest. He had just been given her back and there was no way he was going to lose her again. Stopping Sam wasn't enough; he needed to get Tash out of this alive.

A few minutes later, a bright yellow Mach One with a double black racing stripe pulled up and drove right in through the old, iron gates. It was dark but they could make out a small brunette driving and a tall, dark form next to her that was unmistakably Sam.

"Okay she may be a bitch," Tasha said grudgingly, "but that's a sweet car."

Dean snorted. "That whore dies again tonight," he spat.

"I'm with you on that one."

They both got out Tasha's side onto the sidewalk, keeping low to avoid being seen by the demons in the cars up the street. Nothing more than two silent shadows, they crept along the wall and slipped through the small gate down the side. As they made their way across the front yard towards the yellow Mustang, Dean wondered why his brother hadn't emerged from the car yet. From where he was fifty yards behind, he could see Sam's large bulk just sitting there, shoulders hunched forward.

Pity soared within Dean. When he had found out about the demon blood, he had judged Sam and called him a monster, unable to see past his own hurt and anger to reach out to his brother instead of lashing out. Dean had been so righteous and had been so certain that Sam had lost himself, lost sight of his family, lost who he was. But he knew now his little brother was still in there. Sam's intentions had always been good and the kid had come through for Dean in the end in the biggest of ways. Sam had chosen family over everything – he had chosen _Dean's_   family.

Seeing no sign of Lilith, he figured she must be waiting inside the main church at the altar for Sam to kill her so he stepped out into the open with Tasha just a few feet behind him. He saw Ruby emerging from the car first and caught her eye over the yellow roof just as he started to call out to his brother.

Sam's name came out of his throat in nothing more than a chortled gasp as Ruby raised her arm and Dean felt himself hurtling through the air. He slammed hard into the side of the building and slumped to the ground, dazed and winded. By the time he managed to clear his vision and haul himself into a sitting position, he could just make out Ruby ushering an oblivious Sam in through the main church doors.

"Tash?" he grunted, turning his head to see her moving stiffly beside him, a streak of red blood running down her cheek. "Tash, you okay?"

'I'm good," she answered him finally, struggling to her feet in the overgrown grass. "Sam didn't even see us. They went inside already."

"Crap, I forgot the bitch has the mojo," Dean griped, giving her a sheepish smile as he rose to his feet next to her. "Can't wait to ram this pigstick into her again," he added, drawing Ruby's knife from his jeans. He wasn't sure how he even had the knife since Sam had kept it to fight the demons in the baseball park and Past-Dean had the current one in Zachariah's green room, but he wasn't about to question that gift horse. He took Tasha's hand and practically dragged her towards the door.

"You already got to kill her once," Tasha whispered over his shoulder as they peered warily inside. "Don't be selfish, Dean. I think I should get a turn."

He chuckled and moved inside the empty front room. "And what are you gonna give me in return?"

"Oh, I could think of a few things." She arched an eyebrow at him as she moved past and pumped her shotgun. It occurred to Dean how incredibly sexy a hot chick with a shotgun was.  "So where'd she take Sam?" she asked, snapping his mind back to the task at hand.

He jutted his chin in the direction of the hall with the altar. "Sam!" he yelled, heading across the old foyer. They heard a door slam. "Sam!" Dean shouted again, panic rising that he was going to be too late again. _Shit! Please don't let me screw this up twice!_

He made a dash for the hallway towards the back of the building where Sam was probably confronting Lilith right now but felt a sharp blow to the face as he turned the corner and was sent reeling backwards. He rolled to his feet in time to see Ruby stroll into the room, an angry scowl on her face.

Tasha blasted her shotgun in the brunette's direction, spattering her chest with rock salt but Ruby barely slowed as she strode towards them, sweeping her arm in the air. Dean and Tasha both went flying again, skidding across the floor and crashing into some old, abandoned scaffold.

"You're too late, Dean!" the demon hissed, not disguising her pure hatred for the elder Winchester in the least. "You had your chance and you blew it. Sammy's mine now."

"You're wrong, you black-eyed bitch," Dean fired back, swallowing the pain wracking his battered body and staggering to his feet. He kicked away the mess of pipes at his feet and tightened his grip on the knife in his hand.

Ruby laughed and folded her arms across her chest. "Oh really?" she smirked. "Is that why he kicked the crap outta you for me in that honeymoon suite yesterday? Is that why he's in that room right now using his demon powers to kill Lilith, just like I taught him?"

Dean growled and squared his shoulders, preparing to fight. He could see Tasha in his peripheral doing the same and instinctively swung an arm out in front of her to hold her back. Ruby must have noticed the protective gesture because she laughed again, unfolding her arms to place them haughtily on her hips.

"Hi Tasha," she winked. "Didn't expect to see you here. Let me guess; Dean was so upset that Sam chose me over him that he went crawling to you to lick his wounds for him."

"Guess again, bitch," Tasha retorted just as Dean lunged forward. The knife sliced through the air dangerously close to the demon's face but she leaned back out of its reach. An angry snarl accompanied the sweeping of her hand and both hunters once again found themselves hurtling backwards, this time slamming up against the stone wall. Ruby was more powerful than Dean had realized. He had to give her credit for her skills of deception; she had even had him fooled on the no-mojo thing.

"You two are hard to kill, you know that?" she goaded, holding them with an unseen force from her outstretched hand. She turned towards Tasha. "For starters, you were supposed to be dead a year ago but that sorry excuse of a vampire couldn't hold up his end of the deal."

Tasha's eyes widened in obvious alarm. "You told Diego where to find me!" she accused.

Ruby smiled prettily. "Had you fooled, didn't I?" She strutted forward to stand in front of the pinned brunette and ran her finger caressingly down the line of Tasha's collarbone. "Come on," she cooed. "Don't be like that. We had fun, didn't we?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at the exchange, starting to wonder exactly what had happened in Illinois last year when Tasha had met 'Chrissie', Sam's supposed hunter friend. Whatever it was, he needed to divert the vindictive demon's attention back to him.

"Listen, bitch," he addressed her angrily. "You can wipe that smug smile off your face coz Sam's not gonna kill Lilith. And even if he does, when he finds out she was the last seal, he's gonna rip your heart out without even blinking."

Ruby raised an eyebrow and stepped back from Tasha, her gaze falling on Dean. "Well, well. Somebody finally got his dumb ass informed. Too bad it's too late to do anything about it. Your brother's in there right now going toe to toe with Lilith and you know what, Dean? He _is_   going to kill her. You know why?"  She stepped closer to the restrained hunter. "Coz I'm awesome," she gloted.  "Your brother was so easy to corrupt, Dean.  You just kept pushing him away. You made my job so much easier. I just gave him options and he chose the right one every single time. Our father _will_   be set free tonight and your precious little Sammy is going to be front and center when he gets here. Lucifer's gonna reward him with a higher honor than you could ever imagine. Too bad you won't be around to see it."

With that she jerked her outstretched hand and Dean felt a searing pain shoot through him. He couldn't help but cry out as he writhed against the wall. He could hear Tasha's panicked voice calling his name and barely saw the familiar shape that appeared suddenly behind a smiling Ruby.

"Neither will you," came a deep voice from behind Ruby, who spun around to face the newcomer.

"Castiel," was all she said before the heel of the angel's hand slammed into her forehead.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	18. A New Horizon

 

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

The pain stopped and the invisible pressure holding Dean against the wall subsided, dropping him to the floor with a thud. He looked up, expecting to see Ruby's face flashing as Cas worked his mojo on her and his lips were already curling into a cocky grin of triumph. It was short-lived, however, when he suddenly realized she wasn't dying.

"That all you got, Angelcakes?" the demon snorted, slamming her fist into Cas's puzzled face and sending him crashing into the far wall.

"Crap," Dean groaned. He had been shocked to find out Ruby even had the mojo; how had he underestimated her twice?

"What?" Ruby fired at him with a challenging look. "You surprised Dean?" She raced forward and threw another punch at Cas, who had still been untangling himself from the crumbled stone wall around him. "Did you really think Lilith would trust some low level impotent lackey with the most important mission EVER?" She kicked the angel in the face. "I told you I was awesome."

Cas pulled himself together enough to dodge Ruby's next blow and lunged at her. The two of them hurtled across the floor, kicking and punching so fast all Dean could make out was a blur of beige trench coat and long brown hair. He glimpsed a flash of steel when Cas's angel blade was drawn but a second later it skittered harmlessly away across the floor.

Dean cursed, staggering to his feet with Ruby's knife clutched tightly in his hand and looking for an opening. Tasha, on the other hand, pulled a glue stick from her pocket and made her way around the fray towards the two small chalk lines marking the missing section of the invisible devil's trap they had laid earlier. She filled it in and nodded to Dean as she stepped back.

"Cas!" Dean shouted. "Over there! Get her over there!"

The angel and the demon slammed into the wall, Cas's hands around Ruby's throat and hers fisted in his trench coat. Cas looked like he was coming up on the losing side of the fight but he caught Dean's eye and pushed himself off the wall, hurtling Ruby forward and shoving her towards where Dean was pointing. She stumbled backwards several steps until she caught her footing. With a snarl she charged forward again towards Cas but was stopped short when she hit the barrier of the devil's trap.

Both hunters and Cas let out a breath of relief. Dean stepped forward and readied the knife.

"Hey! What happened to sharing?" Tasha stepped in front of him, holding out her hand. "My turn, remember?"

Dean grinned and handed the knife over. Ruby would have no mojo inside the devil's trap and Tasha with a knife was just fucking beautiful. He knew she could take Ruby down.

"Go get Sam," she told him. "I'll gank the bitch."

Dean turned to go. As he approached Cas, he wondered fleetingly why Raphael hadn't killed him - why had that changed? In the previous reality, his angel friend had never made it to the convent. He wanted to ask but realized Sam could be killing Lilith right now and he needed to get back there to stop him so the Q&A would have to wait. "Thanks Cas," he said hurriedly as he strode past the angel, who was still panting with exertion from the fight. "Stay here and make sure she's okay," he added more quietly, jerking a thumb towards Tasha, who was now twirling the demon-killing knife in her hand outside the circle and looking like she was getting entirely too much enjoyment out of Ruby's predicament.

"You must stop Sam from killing Lilith," Cas told him quickly, confused as to why Dean was even here because this time round he had not brought him here. Even more confusing was why he couldn't sense Dean. It was as if he was being shielded but Cas had not yet engraved the Enokian markings on his ribs … had he? "If Lilith dies..."

"I know, she's the last seal!" Dean called back as he dashed down the hallway only to find himself once again on the wrong side of the large, wooden, door. He shouldered it a few times and was both surprised and overjoyed when it gave way with a sharp splintering sound. Figuring it must have been Ruby's mojo keeping it shut six weeks ago, he smirked and pushed his way through the cracked timbers.

What he saw wiped the smirk off his face instantly. Lilith was dressed all in white and sitting on the floor in front of the altar, bright light poking out of her upturned eyes. Sam was standing in the middle of the room with his hand stretched out towards her, seemingly oblivious to his brother's arrival.

"Sam! Stop!" he shouted but got no reaction. He dashed around the taller man to stand in front of him, his eyes widening at what he saw. Chuck had described this but Dean had still not been prepared for the horrifying sight.

Sam's eyes were inky black and there was a thrum in the air, a vibration that seemed to penetrate right through Dean's body. His little brother's face was twisted and so full of cold, dark hatred that it didn't even look like Sam anymore.

But it was Sam, Dean reminded himself. Sam was still in there. Sam who had fought against overwhelming odds to protect Dean and his children and Sam who had never once given up hope and had kept Dean going when he had been ready to give up and Sam who had willingly given up his life for his family without a flicker of hesitation.

"Sam!' he shouted again, taking a step closer to his brother. When he still got no reaction he moved forward and planted himself right in between Sam and Lilith, fisting his brother's sleeves and shaking him to get his attention.

Sam finally seemed to snap out of his trance and his black eyes turned down towards Dean's. Thankfully, the hunter could hear Lilith gasping and wheezing behind him. As long as she was alive, there was hope.

"Sam," he repeated. "You can't kill her! Lilith is the final seal. You kill her and Lucifer goes free."

"Get out of my way, Dean," Sam hissed coldly, pushing his brother roughly aside and clearly not listening.

"No, damnit. Listen to me. You can't kill Lilith."

"You don't understand, Dean," Sam said, his black eyes fixing back on the pretty blonde on the floor. "I'm the only one who can do this. Not you." He started to raise his arm again.

"Sam, she _wants_   you to kill her!" Dean was getting anxious. "You have to trust me. Please just trust me."

"Why should I?" Sam's eyes flickered hazel for just a second, long enough for Dean to recognize hurt and pain within them. "You think I'm a monster, remember? You don't trust me."

"I do trust you. More than you could ever know. I trust you think you're doing the right thing and I trust that my little brother's still in there." Dean moved himself back between Sam and the demon. "I was wrong before. What I said … I was wrong. You're the kindest, most loyal, and most freakishly annoyingly _good_   person I know, Sam. I was wrong. We're brothers, man. You'll always be my brother and I love you but right now I need you to trust me. This was a scam from the jump. Ruby's been lying this whole time."

He saw Sam's shoulders stiffen and his teeth grind together. At first he thought it may be a reaction to his use of the L word, but then thought maybe it was the mention of Ruby. Dean realized he'd tried this argument a thousand times before – his brother would need proof.

"She just tried to kill me out front," he announced. "And she just admitted to Tasha that she was the one who led Diego to her last year."

Another flash of hazel. Sam was listening.

"Look, it's a long story but you have to believe me that Lilith is the last …" He was cut off as an unseen force slammed into him, sending him straight into the side wall. He heard the crack his head made when it collided with the stone but didn't feel much of anything as he slumped to the ground in a daze.

"You bitch!" he heard Sam yell and then there was that thrum again. He focused to see his brother outstretching his hand towards the demon once more, her head thrown back as a scream of agony escaped her.

He willed himself back to his feet and staggered the few steps to place himself between the face-off again. "Sam … stop," he panted, struggling for breath.

Sam's fist pulled back slightly and the thrum abated just a bit. "For fuck's sake, Dean, get out of the way!" he snapped.

"No. Lilith … is the … last…"

"Lilith put you in Hell!" Sam yelled at him, his eyes turning hazel and once more spilling out hurt and sadness. "She's never gonna get the chance to hurt you again, Dean. She has to die." Dean's heart lurched when he realized suddenly the depth of pain Sam had endured as a result of Dean's crossroad's deal. It suddenly became abundantly clear why Ruby had been so able to string Sam along. It had been the sheer intensity of his grief and guilt that she had skillfully manipulated into anger and this driving thirst for revenge that had swallowed up his little brother for the past year.

"I know. I know," he said calmly, his breath finally returning to him. "But we can't because Lilith _is_   the last seal. That's what this is all about. If you kill her, Lucifer gets out."

He knew this time his words had been heard because Sam's hand jerked back and a sharp gasp escaped him. "Are you sure?" he managed. "How do you know?"

Dean straightened up, his shoulders finally relaxing. "Long story. Just trust me for now, okay?"

Sam gave him long, hard look, his face losing the wild, dark look it had adorned and his eyes drooping into the classic kicked puppy look that Dean could never say no to. He looked like he was about to say something when he suddenly shot his hand back out towards the demon.

Dean flinched and spun around just in time to see Lilith's hand go from aiming at Dean to being pressed against the stone altar behind her. She began to laugh.

"What are you going to do, Sam?" she taunted. "Are you going to hold me here forever?" Her eyes shot daggers at the elder Winchester. "You'll run out of steam eventually," she continued smugly. "And as soon as you do, I'm going to make your brother scream. Remember when the Hellhounds tore him apart? " She giggled. "Good times. But that was nothing compared to what I'm going to do to him now. You know if you send me to Hell, I'll just get back out. I'll get him sooner or later. The only chance your brother's got is if you kill me now."

"Shut your pie hole!" Dean fired at her before giving Sam an anxious look. "Don't do it, Sam," he warned. "No matter what she does, you _can't_   kill her. Got it?"

Sam nodded. "I got it, I got it," he said but he didn't look entirely convinced. "But Dean, she's right," he admitted, his face already starting to show the signs of fatigue as he kept Lilith pinned with his mojo. "I can't hold her here forever."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

Tasha paced around the perimeter of the circle for a few seconds, clearly enjoying the look of fear that Ruby was trying so obviously to conceal. Finally she stopped and took a step forward. 'I think it's payback time, bitch."

"Is that the best line you can come up with?" Ruby spat back, taking a defensive stance. "No wonder you and Dean get along so well. There's not half an ounce of brains between you."

"Then why is it Dean saw through you from the start?" Tasha retorted. "And if I had known you were a demon, I would have stuck you with this in Illinois last year."

Ruby managed an almost convincing laugh. "Okay, Sister. Whatever you say. But tell me, would that have been before or after we got all naked and sweaty together?"

Tasha threw a quick, shameful glance at the angel who arched a curious eyebrow at the comment. She turned back to her intended prey, a dark scowl appearing on her face as she lunged forward with an angry snarl. In a flash, Ruby pulled a longer blade from her boot and swiped it at Tasha. The hunter moved quickly, deftly dodging the swing and dancing past the demon. She spun around as she did so and with both hands on the handle, drove her blade hilt-deep into the side of Ruby's neck.

Cas watched as the fight ended before it had even really begun, his worry quickly dissipating. He saw the distorted and twisted soul within the demon burn itself to nothingness and the brunette it had been inhabiting slump to the ground. Knowing Tasha as well as he did, he was certain she would be annoyed with him if he interfered so he had forced himself to resist the urge to step in despite his worry.

He watched Tasha's eyes follow Ruby to the ground before moving back up to meet with his. "What are you still doing here?" she scolded him without hesitation. "Why didn't you go with Dean?"

Cas smiled at her fondly, a warm feeling flowing through his insides to see his friend alive and well and even bitching at him like she had in their first months together. She didn't smile back but simply stepped over Ruby's lifeless body and quickly headed towards the back where Dean had disappeared.

"It's good to see you again, Tasha," Cas blurted as she passed him, stepping forward and pulling her into an awkward embrace.

"Uh…sure," she stammered, pressed against him but not returning the hug. "Listen Buddy, if you try to cop a feel, I'm gonna kick you in the jewels so hard your wings'll pop out."

Cas laughed softly but pulled back. "That's right; you don't remember," he murmured, feeling a sharp pang of disappointment. "Let's go help Sam and Dean. I have something they will need."

A noise at the entrance of the convent stopped them and they both spun around to see the double doors swing wide open to reveal almost a dozen people making their way inside.

"Demons," Cas said, his voice deepening as he stepped in front of Tasha.

"Damnit, the minions came back," she breathed, tightening her grip on the bloody knife in her hand and moving up to stand next to the angel.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

"I'm gonna go get Cas," Dean said finally, unable to think of a way out of the predicament the Winchesters found themselves in. His stomach was churning as he helplessly watched Sam using his demon powers to hold a struggling Lilith in place. Sweat plastered his brother's hair to his face, which was getting paler with every passing second, and a trickle of blood had appeared out of his nose.

"Dean," Sam interrupted, his voice raspy and hoarse with exertion. "I'm sorry, Dean. About what I did in the hotel room."

"Water under the bridge, Sammy," Dean assured him quickly, shaking off the unpleasant memory of his brother's hands around his throat choking him. "That was just the demon juice talking. We're good. More than good, okay? Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of this. Now can you hang in there while I go get Cas?"

"I'm here," Cas said as he strode into the room followed closely by Tasha. The angel's coat was tattered and his shirt was untucked and Dean could make out a nasty bruise quickly coloring the left side of Tasha's face.

"What took you guys so long?" Dean demanded, using bluntness to cover his worry.

"Oh just ten or eleven demons," Tasha quipped. "That Lilith?" she nodded towards the gasping demon in the white dress. 'What's wrong with her?"

"Sam is holding her in place," Cas answered, his brow creasing in concern as he looked at the trembling younger Winchester.

"Cas, can we gank her without letting Lucifer out?" Dean demanded.

"No, but I have another solution," the angel replied, pulling a small object from his pocket. "This is the Horseman Death's ring. The power that put Lucifer in his prison came from the four Horsemen's rings. That is why the Horsemen cannot be raised until after Lucifer is set free. I only have one ring so this may be but a temporary measure, but Lilith is a far lesser being than Lucifer so this should put her most of the way into the cage."

"Wait, what would happen if you had two?" Dean asked, digging in his own jacket pocket and pulling out War's ring. "Would that be permanent?"

Cas's blue eyes widened at the sight of Dean's offering. "How did you get this?" He asked as he took the ring. "And how did you know that Lilith was the last seal?"

"Long story Cas," Dean shrugged. "Let's just say this day is one helluva déjà vu for me. Would you believe me if I said I got this from War about a week from now…"

"He brought you back too!" the angel exclaimed, staring at him intently. "You're from the future. That explains why I couldn't find you; you already have the sigils I will carve into your chest three days from now."

Dean had always been sharp under pressure and he managed to put two and two together fairly quickly. "You're you - from the future you. Did you and Sam survive at the baseball field?"

"No," Cas shook his head. "But I believe Sam earned us a second chance at today."

"Uh, guys," Sam panted. "Enough with the … nonsense talk."

Cas cleared his throat apologetically. "Right," he said, touching the two rings together and watching them link themselves. "This will work far better with two rings. Lilith will be locked in the cage and since she is the last seal, it will be locked permanently."

"So why didn't you genius angels just do that in the first place?" Tasha scoffed.

Cas just shrugged and started chanting the verses Balthazar had given him. Dean moved to stand next to his teetering brother and glared at Lilith. "Hear that bitch?" he taunted. "You love Luci so much; try sharing a cell with him for a few thousand centuries."

"No, no, no," she whimpered when Cas tossed the rings near her feet and waved everybody in the room backwards, never once stopping his recital. "You can't do this!" She began to squirm away from the metal rings, trying to kick out with her feet but Sam held her still. The room began to shake and the altar began to crumble around her. Sam finally dropped his hand and Dean practically dragged him out the door, pushing Tasha out in front of them.

There was a blood-curdling scream from behind them and Dean turned just in time to see the stone floor drop away and a giant hole swallow up the demon and everything around her, the altar crumbling to pieces as it fell into the blackness. Watching the bitch that had sent him to Hell and put his brother through the equivalent misery topside finally get what was coming to her, he couldn't help but think he should be feeling something; some measure of joy, pleasure or satisfaction. Instead his entire wealth of emotions was focused on the young man leaning heavily on him right now, the brunette ahead of him stealing concerned glances back at them every few seconds, and the Angel of God walking stoically at his side. He was going to keep his attention on the future, not the past - on what he had, not what he'd lost.

When the hole stopped growing, he thought the worst was over but the building continued to shake and a large chunk of stone suddenly broke from the ceiling, crashing to the floor next to the group and narrowly missing Tasha.

"We should get outside," Cas stated the obvious. They ducked and weaved through the trembling building, dodging crumbling arches and walls caving in around them. Dean had Sam's arm pulled over his shoulder and was helping the staggering hunter along when they reached the foyer. As they stepped over the numerous dead demons, he felt the younger Winchester stop and turned his head to see Sam staring down at Ruby's lifeless body.

"Bitch had it coming," he said softly, actually feeling sorry for Sam.

"I know," Sam acknowledged, giving him a tight-lipped smile and stepping over the demon while still leaning heavily on his brother. They continued towards the door and the group of four burst out into the night air, scrambling down the steps as the building's roof caved in behind them with a thunderous rumble. Large chunks of the front archway landed on the yellow Mustang but nobody even gave it a second glance as Tasha led them towards the Challenger still parked just outside the gate.

"Where's the Impala?" Sam slurred groggily as they clambered in, dropping into the back seat with Cas.

"At Bobby's," Dean explained quickly as he started up the engine and pulled out onto the street. "So Cas," he asked as soon as they were clear, his eyes searching out the angel's in the rear view mirror. "D'you remember everything from the first time before you died in Detroit? Can you tell me if things still happen the same way?"

Cas furrowed his brow. "Of course not," he answered. "We've already changed things. Lucifer will not rise and…"

"Not apocalyptic things," Dean clarified. "Other things … family things …"

A look of realization hit Castiel's face. "Oh, you mean Sammy and Cassie?"

"Who are Sammy and Cassie?" Sam mumbled, lucid enough to realize the angel wasn't referring to Sam or himself.

"Dean and Tasha's children," Cas answered bluntly.

"WHAT?" came a chortled cry from Tasha, her eyes staring wildly at Dean in the driver's seat next to her. _"Children?"_

"Nice Cas. Real subtle." Dean rolled his eyes before looking back at Tasha with a grin. "Well, future children, actually. In about nine and a half months or so..." He spared a questioning look at Cas in the back seat who gave him a one-shouldered shrug and a nod to indicate he believed this would still be the case.

"Yes, I believe it is possible the same twins will be conceived," the angel offered.

"Twins?"

Dean had to laugh at the look of shock and bewilderment on the brunette's face.

An amused sounding chuckle escaped Sam. "Huh, you guys are having kids?" He rolled his head on the seat back to face Cas, his brows knotting. "Wait, dude, did he just say you died?" he asked belatedly, his mind clearly foggy from holding Lilith in place so long.

"Yes," Cas answered honestly. "So did you." He turned to Tasha in the front seat. "And you, too. And Bobby and Ellen and Jo and Cassie..."

Sam held up a hand to stop him. "Okay, I'm gonna pass out now but when I wake up, somebody's gotta let me know what's going on." With that his head slumped forward onto his chest and his breathing evened out to the slow rhythm of unconsciousness.

Dean threw him a concerned glance in the mirror but Tasha didn't even seem to notice.

"Wait, so this is what all that talk about kids was in the car?" she said accusingly to Dean. "We already had them?"

"No, actually the last time it was more like you and Cas had them." Her eyes shot open and she gave the angel in the back seat a skeptical look. Dean couldn't help but laugh again. "No, not that way," he clarified. "You two _raised_   them. But this time I'll be there with you."

"What if I don't want kids?" Tasha said, her voice faltering.

Dean gave her an impudent grin. "Don't worry. You've got a few months to get used to the idea, Babe."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Whatever happened to free will?" she huffed but didn't argue further.

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

The drive to Bobby's was almost twenty hours. Sam slept for much of it so Dean and Tasha took turns driving. Cas hung around for the first, full explanation of everything that had happened in the averted future, filling the brunette in on the jist of their five years together in the past, but winged out before Sam had woken up and the entire story was repeated for his benefit.

Tasha was quiet, especially during any mention of the kids and Dean couldn't help but wonder what was going through her head. Maybe she wouldn't be as easy to convince as he had assumed. They had only been together for two months and that had been a year and a half ago and he had to admit, having kids together was quite a leap of commitment. Maybe she wasn't as ready to make that jump and try the relationship thing as he was. She also hadn't had any family since she was fourteen; maybe she wasn't willing to dive into being a mother of two.

Sam was quiet also but the reason for that was written all over his face. As Dean told the story again and the since-prevented hits kept coming, the younger Winchester's expression grew more and more miserable. Guilt oozed out his pores and when Dean's voice choked up at the explanation of what had happened to Cassie, he simply closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

"Wow, I really screwed up, didn't I?" he said quietly. "I can't believe it was me that let Lucifer out."

"You didn't," Dean corrected.

"I did last time.  And I would have if you hadn't shown up. I was so close, Dean. I would have gotten everybody killed. Everybody."

"Doesn't matter coz it never happened." Dean believed that wholeheartedly. "And we all screwed up last time, including me and Cas. What matters is that we got it right this time."

Sam simply nodded, not looking at all convinced as he rubbed his hands together in his lap. "I'll have to detox again," he announced tiredly.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I know, dude. I'm sorry."

"S'okay. Not your fault. How pissed is Bobby that I knocked him out last time?"

"You know Bobby. All bark and no bite. Besides, he's too worried about you to be pissed. It's okay, Sam. You got duped. That's it. Happens to the best of us."

Sam didn't answer but Dean left him alone. Sam wouldn't be Sam if he didn't wallow in guilt for a while. Dean was glad when the kid fell asleep again in the back seat because he would certainly need all the rest he could get. Things were bound to get get hairy when the withdrawal started to kick in again.

It was quiet in the car for a while. When they were fifty miles from Sioux Falls, his phone ring cut the silence with Deep Purple. Assuming it was Bobby looking for an ETA, Dean flicked it open quickly to avoid waking his brother.

"Yeah?"

 _"Dean_?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

_"It's me. Chuck."_

"Chuck? Why are you phoning me?" Cas had explained that there was no Past-Dean and no Past-Cas so nobody had shown up at the prophet's house last night.

_"Uh, first of all, I'm glad you're okay. But, uh, I'm calling about the twins."_

"Sammy and Cassie?" Dean snapped to attention. "What about them?"

 _"Uhh…"_   Chuck stammered, the easily intimidated writer clearly picking up on the stern and somewhat challenging tone in Dean's voice.

"What about them, Chuck?" Dean pressed. "Please tell me they're not in another prophecy. Can't you all just leave them out of this?" Now he was getting angry.

" _No, there's no prophecy, not anymore. But I do know something. Uh, they're not gonna be conceived in three weeks or so like they were last time_."

Dean's heart dropped and he swallowed hard before he spoke. "What do you mean they're not gonna be conceived?"

" _You've changed a lot of things, Dean. Things are different_."

"No, please, Chuck," Dean pleaded into the phone, his voice raspy. "Please, they're my kids. I don't want others; I want _them."_

"W _ait, Dean_ ," Chuck interrupted. " _They'll still, uh, happen … just not so soon. They'll be conceived on August 19, 2011_."

The hunter's heart jumped back into gear, thumping loudly in his chest with relief. "The same kids?" he gushed.

" _Yeah. Same two. I, uh, I just thought you should know. I didn't want you to worry when it didn't happen next month_."

Dean was grinning now. "Thanks Chuck," he said sincerely. "Thanks."

" _No problem. But, uh, I gotta go. The angels are pretty pissed right now and not paying me much attention but they'll be checking on me soon, I'm sure_."

Dean thanked him again and hung up, turning his smile to Tasha in the passenger seat.

"We still get the kids," he breathed. "We gotta wait a couple of years, but we still get Sammy and Cassie."

She had an unreadable look on her face as he explained the conversation and it struck him that she neither knew nor particularly wanted Sammy and Cassie. A knot started to form in the pit of his stomach.

"I saw your face when you thought they weren't going to exist," she said finally. "You really loved them, didn't you?"

Dean nodded without hesitation. "So did you."

She smiled. "I admit, I'm kinda glad we get a bit more time, but I... I'm warming up to the idea of having your children, Dean. I think maybe I might even be honored to."

He grinned at her and impulsively leaned over to plant a kiss on her lips. She giggled onto his mouth when the Challenger swerved from Dean's lack of attention and he was forced to yank it back into his lane with a squeal of the tires.

"Wha…what's going on?" Sam asked groggily from the back seat.

"Pothole, dude," Dean told him with a laugh. "Go back to sleep."

Dean couldn't help but feel almost giddy with happiness. After a lifetime of hurt and loss and nothing but a bleak outlook on the future, suddenly everything was great and he was looking forward to each and every day to come.

"So if Lucifer never rose and our kids … I can't believe I just said that … our kids aren't even conceived for another couple of years, then howcome Chuck knows all about the other timeline?" Tasha interrupted his thoughts.

Dean narrowed his eyes as he pondered her question. "God," he answered finally with confidence. "God's come out of hiding." He smiled in approval. "And for once he's looking out for us; for our family."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

_**Two days later…** _

Dean leant back against the Impala, resting his weight just above the front wheel arch, and took another swig of his ninth beer … or maybe that was his tenth. He'd lost count after he started alternating the light stuff with glasses of scotch. It was past midnight but there wasn't a cloud in the sky over Singer Salvage and the half moon illuminated the junkyard in a stunning, poem-worthy array of shadows and reflections.

Sam's detox this time round had been slightly better than the last, even if only because he was determined to come clean this time and wasn't focusing his efforts on trying to escape. It still hurt to watch and listen to the screams in the panic room, but Dean never doubted Sam would get through it. His brother was as stubborn as the rest of the Winchester men and he was certainly determined.

Bobby had questioned the wisdom of his offer to Ellen and Jo to stop by but Dean had insisted they were loyal and wouldn't judge Sam. He was confident they would be a helpful presence and not just for the detoxing young hunter locked in the panic room. They had arrived this afternoon and upon being filled in, Ellen had immediately gone downstairs to sit with Sam, not emerging for quite a few hours.

Dean stood alone now outside in the night air enjoying the small reprieve from Sam's often vocal struggle. He looked towards the house and sighed. Maybe it was the booze but he couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside. With the arrival of the Harvelles, he had realized that everybody he needed was here. Sam, Bobby, Tasha, Ellen, and Jo. They may not all be blood but they were his family. His whole family was alive and well and inside the house that had become a home to him over the past couple of years. Well, except Sammy and Cassie but they would be here soon enough and this time he wouldn't miss a single moment.

But he was wrong, he thought suddenly. Everyone wasn't here. There was one person missing. Cas wasn't even human but he had become like a brother, as much family as Bobby or Tasha. Cas hadn't shown his face since the ride back from St. Mary's and the hunter had been getting worried.

"Dean." The familiar deep voice sounded right next to him.

He tried to cover his surprised jump, turning his head to see the angel standing somberly next to him. _Had he known Dean was just thinking about him?_

"Dude, you're not reading my mind, are you?"

"No, why?"

"Uh, no reason." He took another slow drink. "Glad you're okay."

Cas leaned back against the Impala in the space next to him, remaining silent and turning his head upwards to gaze at the stars above. Maybe it was the multiple bottles of beer or maybe it was the warm, peaceful feelings that had a grip on him since he had watched Lilith spiral down to the pits of Hell but strangely, Dean felt like sharing.

"You know what's funny?" he asked rhetorically. "A week ago, I thought I was worthless. I thought I deserved all the crap that had happened in Hell. I thought I didn't deserve to be loved by anybody because of all the things I did down there after I got off the rack. I felt like I had the shittiest life you could possibly imagine but now..." he trailed off.

"But now?" Cas prompted, sounded genuinely interested.

Dean jerked his chin towards Bobby's shoddy-looking two-story. "You see the people in that house, Cas?"

He got a solemn nod in reply.

"Every single one of them died for me; died helping me. And you did too." He tilted his beer towards the angel. "Twice," he added with a chuckle. "Way I see it now, I must be the luckiest sonofabitch on the planet." He snorted quietly. "You know, I might even go as far as to say I'm blessed."

His eyes caught Cas's and the two shared a smile. "I dunno what to make of it," Dean continued with a shrug. "I've just never felt this way before."

"You deserve this, Dean."

The pair was silent for another long moment before the hunter finally reached inside the back of the classic car and handed Cas a beer. To his mild surprise, his friend accepted the offering and took a long, slow drink.

"Why did we get this second chance?" Dean blurted, voicing the question that had been floating around in his head unanswered for two days now. If anyone could give him the answers, it would be Cas. "I still don't understand. Howcome we could change the past this time when we couldn't before? If it was God, he hadn't interfered before so why now? And if it's all about free will versus destiny, isn't part of free will living with the consequences of your actions? Of my actions downstairs, of Sam's actions up here? Why did we get a do-over?"

Cas sighed before answering slowly. "I'm not sure," he answered unhelpfully. "I have faith it was God but I believe it may have been about leveling the playing field."

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow. "Come again?"

"The apocalypse has always been thought of by angels as a war between Lucifer and his demons and the Armies of Heaven. A two-sided war in which humanity is just collateral damage. In the first reality, Lucifer and Lilith and the angels all knew what the consequences would be if Sam gave in to hatred and revenge and killed Lilith. You and your brother, humans, did not. I think Sam earned the equal right to know the stakes for humanity. He proved humans to be worthy of valor and sacrifice when he chose to die for you and your son. And I think he earned humans a true place on the battlefield when he killed Lucifer."

"Hmph." Dean took a long, thoughtful swig of his beer. "You stayed too," he pointed out. "You're not human. And why did me and you get to come back but Sam died in the future?"

"What significance would Sam's sacrifice have been if he didn't die?" Cas pointed out.

"Know what I think? I think in the end we said 'screw you' to destiny and we flipped fate and all that predetermined crap the bird. I think we proved not just that we have free will, but that we deserve it."

The angel tilted his head in thought. "Perhaps," he shrugged. "Or perhaps God just wanted to save His son after Sam killed him. He did love Lucifer once." He turned his gaze back up to the stars. "I suppose we may never know."

They stood in silence again until Dean finished his beer and cracked open a new one. It was then that Cas cleared his throat and spoke.

"Tasha used to call me a killjoy and I don't wish to be one now, but we still have problems."

A groan escaped the taller man next to him. "Lemme guess, big brother Michael is being a dick?"

"It would not be wise for me to go home to Heaven, no. But I was actually referring to..."

He was cut off. "Dude, Heaven's not your home anymore. Screw them if they don't want you. See this place?" he waved his hand at the house behind them. 'You're always welcome here."

"Thank-you, Dean."

There was an uncomfortable pause during which Dean inwardly cursed his drunken mouth. _How gay had that sounded?_

"But as I was saying," Cas continued, unfazed, "we may have averted the apocalypse but there is something else afoot."

"Afoot?" Dean couldn't resist the tease.

"Yes." The angel paused and pulled a thoughtful face. "There is something hinky going down," he rephrased.

Dean just snorted affectionately and took another drink. That was clearly a saying Cas had picked up from his five years spent with Tasha. "OK, I'll bite," he encouraged his friend to continue.

"The creatures you hunt; they're changing."

"Changing?"

"I'm afraid so. In the past couple of months, things have been out of sorts. Even the angels have noticed."

A frown. "Bobby mentioned that but that's just Lilith and the seals and the interfering douchebags from upstairs, isn't it? It should stop now."

Cas shook his head. "No. It is something else. Something big. The Horseman Death told me there is someone else who would cause more havoc and chaos than even Lucifer and said something about it all being about the souls. I believe that is what is at work here."

"That why Death got down on one knee?" Dean asked, just getting a confused look in return. "Gave you the ring," he clarified, shaking his head.

"I believe that was more because he did not appreciate being a slave to what he considers a lesser being. Lucifer and then Grigori were in control and Death has a considerable ego. No this new trouble is something else altogether."

A sigh. "Well, Cas, I'm in too good of a mood to hear about it now. That's tomorrow's problem, 'kay? I got over two years to take care of it and make this world safe for the twins. But what I want right now is another scotch." He pushed himself up off the car. "Come on dude, let's go inside. I know for a fact there are two Harvelle women in there just dying to meet you and feed you some liquor. I gotta warn you though; Ellen can _really_   knock 'em back."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**


	19. Epilogue

 

**_(Two years later)  August 19, 2011…_ **

"Come on Baby," Dean encouraged, caressing the top of the Impala's steering wheel with his hand in an effort to make her go faster.

"Dude, you're gonna get us pulled over and arrested. Then you'll definitely never make it there in time."

"Well I wouldn't have to speed if you hadn't taken so long to find me," Dean griped.

"Oh this is my fault now?" Sam was incredulous. "We would have been back at Bobby's two days ago if you hadn't let the little old lady get the drop on you."

"How was I supposed to know friggin' Grandma was the Selkie?"

"Well you're lucky I figured it out or you'd still be tied up in her basement right now."

Dean looked at his watch again and groaned. "We're cutting it close, man," he growled, fisting the wheel with two hands as he tore up the tarmac on the way back to Sioux Falls and Bobby's house.

The brothers and Tasha had been spending a lot of time at Singer Salvage, using it as a home base between hunts and often extending one-day layovers into a few days or a week. Ellen had officially moved in a year ago and had finally convinced the gruff bachelor of thirty years to clean out all the rooms he had upstairs for the gang to stay in. Jo also stopped by regularly and had become quite good friends with Tasha. In fact, the two women had just worked a hunt together in Florida while Dean and Sam had solved the mystery of the missing people in Grayland, Washington. Dean had told Sam that he and Tash had a **_'real_** friendly' wager on which team would wrap things up first and, although he really didn't want to imagine what kinkiness the stakes surely involved, he had teased his brother when it became evident Tasha would be winning that bet.

Sam took in the intense look on Dean's face and smiled. Today was the day Chuck the Prophet had told Dean that Sammy and Cassie would be conceived. He was looking forward to finally being an uncle, even if it would be another nine months or so before he could meet the kids he had been hearing so much about for the past two years. Dean had been distracted all week – probably the reason a four-hundred year old Selkie had managed to slip past his defenses.

"Aren't you nervous?" Sam asked curiously. "I'll admit, I'm still having trouble picturing you with twins."

Dean grinned over at him. "Wait 'till you meet them, dude. They're the best kids ever. You're gonna love them."

"Yeah, but you – changing a diaper?"

"I can take care of that part for you," came a deep voice from the back seat.

Both brothers spun around to find Cas sitting in the middle of the bench seat. The angel frowned and addressed Dean directly. "Leaving it a little last minute, aren't you?" he accused sternly.

"Cas, where have you been?" Dean demanded back. "I've been trying to call you. Can you zap me there? I'm gonna be freaking late."

Cas rolled his eyes. "You have known about this date for two years, Dean. You shouldn't need my help to make Sammy and Cassie."

"Hey! You just zap me there. I can handle the making babies part on my own, trust me." Dean pulled over quickly to the side of the road, leaving the keys in the ignition for Sam and an instant later, he and Cas were standing in Bobby's living room.

"Tash!" Dean hollered, never one to be subtle.

Tasha came sauntering in from the kitchen to find herself swept up into the hunter's arms and smothered in kisses. She giggled at Dean's enthusiastic welcome and tilted her head to give him better access as his lips reached her neck.

"Where is everyone?" Dean questioned between quickening breaths.

"Bobby and Ellen are gone for the weekend," she answered, moving her lips to meet his but after a moment, she stopped and looked past him to peer at Cas. Without letting her go, Dean twisted around to quirk an eyebrow at his friend.

"Oh, yes," Cas stammered. "I guess I'll be leaving now."

He disappeared just as Dean jokingly called out "And no peeking!" into the empty corner of the living room.

Tasha's eyes widened. "Woah, he doesn't peek, does he?"

Dean shrugged as a laugh rumbled through his chest. "Well if he did, he would have only done it once coz you…" _kiss_ "…are an animal…" _kiss_ "…and you would have…" _kiss_ "…blown his blue-ass eyeballs out of their…" _kiss_ "…sockets."

He planted his hands firmly on her hips and started to walk her backwards towards the couch, too impatient to bother taking this upstairs.

"Uh, what about Sam?" Tasha stammered, sounding oddly nervous. "Won't he be here soon?"

"Not for at least three hours."

"You know, Jo broke up with that loser she was seeing and she'll probably stop by tomorrow." Dean noticed a slight tremble run through her as his hands slid up her waist under her t-shirt. "Maybe this time Sam'll finally man-up and make a move," she continued, obviously stalling. "I mean, I think he should just sleep with her already."

Dean grimaced at her. "Eww. Not the visual I wanted right before we have sex." He pushed her gently back down onto the couch behind her.

"Wow, you don't waste any time, huh?"

"I've been waiting two years for this," he breathed, tugging at the hem of her shirt to get it off. She let him remove it but he could sense her hesitation so he cupped her face and gave her a slow, deep, openmouthed kiss, hoping to ease her mind.

"Are you sure about this, Dean?"

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"Yeah, but kids? What if I'm a terrible mother?"

"You're a terrific mother," he assured her, kissing her neck again. "You can trust me on that one; I've seen it." He pulled back and grinned at her. "And you're a total milf."

She chuckled at that. "You're not helping your case."

"Just shut up and kiss me," he ordered. "We got babies to make."

**~0~0~0~0~0~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue was just a short, sappy flash-forward to confirm that Sammy and Cassie will be back eventually :-) Hope you enjoyed this story and hope you come back for the sequel (warning it is rated Explicit). More action, more romance, and some darker themes in an AU version of season 6 that starts up a month after the last chapter of this fic ended when Crowley starts making trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, the title for this story comes from a line in the Aerosmith song 'Sweet Emotion' which refers to a positive pregnancy test.


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